


Lost and Found

by Cyberfairie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Kid Fic, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberfairie/pseuds/Cyberfairie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hawke is called to aid the Inquisition in defeating Corypheus she leaves the most important beings in her life to the two men she has loved.<br/>What will Fenris and Anders do when they learn that they are suddenly fathers to three year old girls?  And how will each mans journey to return to Hawke's side change how they have always perceived the world...and each other?</p><p> </p><p>This is my entry for the 2015 Dragon Age Reverse Big Bang based on the playlist by <a href="http://therealfrankenberry.tumblr.com/">therealfrankenberry</a><br/>The playlist is available at:  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRQPlGox-vRwG-9HDWvFmSPlSnyBwFUIk">Lost and Found</a><br/>The title for the track that inspired each section of the story is included in the chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unexpected Beginnings

**Matchbox 20 – Straight For This Life**

Anders sighed at the sound of light tapping against his door.  He wanted to pretend he didn’t hear it, wanted to scream out that he was through for the night and to come back in the morning, wanted to wearily admit that he had nothing more to give today.  Of course, even if he could convince himself that it was ok to do so, Justice would just nag at him until he gave in and helped whoever it was that was in need and honestly, these days, he’d rather not stir the spirit up.

With another tired little sigh he forced himself to his feet and crossed the small room, skirting past the basket of dirty bandages he still needed to boil and reroll as he reached for the door.  He barely had the bolt unlatched before a familiar brunette was pushing her way into the room, the young child tucked on her hip drawing a little frown from him.

“Love what you’ve done with the place Sparklefingers.  It just screams fugitive apostate.”

“Isabela…” Anders drew out the one word, both a question and a request to leave in four little syllables.

“Awwww, don’t go getting your panties in a bunch,” the pirate chuckled, bending to set the child down on the chair that Anders had previously been occupying, the only chair he had in the room. 

Absently letting the door slip from his hands, Anders hesitantly took two steps toward where Isabela knelt in front of the girl, combing her hand through the child’s hair…a child that looked incredibly like a young…

“Surprise?!” Isabela whispered, looking up at Anders with anxious eyes and a bite of her lip.

“Is she…”

“Hawke’s child?  Yes.  Her name is Felicia.  She’s your daughter.”

 

 

Fenris’s ear twitched, the rest of him still as stone as he paused on the third step from the landing, his eyes focused on the sliver of wood that lay flat on the floor.  The sliver of wood that should still be wedged tightly into the door, the one he himself had placed just this morning when he’d left to pursue the latest rumors of a slave ship being expected to dock today.  The piece would only be lying flat if someone else had opened his door.

Slipping his greatsword from its sheath he cautiously climbed the rest of the steps, frowning when he found the door still ajar.  Either whoever had broken in had left already, and quite frankly that wouldn’t surprise him because he had nothing to steal, or they were incredibly sloppy.  Tightening his grip on his sword he nudged the door open a bit further, almost dropping the blade into his armor as he caught sight of a familiar face.

“Fenris, it is you.  We’ve been waiting quite a while.  I was starting to think that I had entered the wrong house which would have been really embarrassing when someone besides you showed up.  But then it was you, so it’s ok.”

If the non-stop chatter wasn’t enough to fray his nerves, as she spoke Merrill had hurried over to him and embraced him as though they had been lovers rather than acquaintances who didn’t exactly want to kill each other.  Extricating himself as smoothly as possible without slicing her in two with the sword she had paid no attention to, Fenris growled, “Why are you here, witch?”

“Dat ‘im ‘Rill?”

This time it was Fenris’s turn to about cut his finger off when he startled as he slipped the blade back into its sheath.  Spinning to the left he caught sight of the child who was currently occupying his bed.  Little hands were rubbing at sleepy eyes so it was only when the child moved them that Fenris felt like the air had been driven from his lungs and, embarrassingly enough, he would have hit his knees had Merrill not been there to steady him.

It was Hawke.  In every meaningful way it was Hawke recreated in a child’s body…every way, save one.  Because the eyes that peered back at him questioningly were his own bright green.

“Daddy?”

 

 

**Of Monsters and Men – Silhouettes**

Anders was pacing tiny circles, his eyes darting between Isabela, who was leaning against the wall with her foot braced up as though she had just arrived to chat about the weather rather than tell him he was a _father_ , and the door that lead to his small bedroom where his apparent daughter lay sleeping.

Felicia.  For a moment Anders steps faltered, a bit of a wistful grin crossing his lips before the memory of those emerald green eyes reminded him that there was no way that beautiful child could be his.  “I don’t know what game you and Hawke are playing Bella, but there is no way that child is mine.”

“Blood of your blood, perhaps not,” Isabela shrugged.  “But you’re who Hawke wanted her taken to, you’re the one Hawke trusts to raise her.”

**We cannot be distracted by caring for a small human.  There are more important uses for our time.**

_Shut up Justice,_ Anders growled to the spirit in his mind, his pacing resuming.  “I don’t know what she was thinking, I’m a fugitive with a bounty on my head.  I can’t possibly be responsible for raising a child.”

Isabela snorted.  “Listen Sweet Cheeks, I hear you.  How do you think I felt when Hawke showed up on my doorstep.  But part of the reason you’re still breathing is because she let you get away that day…I’d say you owed her.”

Anders stumbled to a stop, sighing softly.  “You don’t fight fair Bella.”

Isabela shrugged.  “Never said I did.”

Anders glanced towards the bedroom door once more.  “I don’t understand, why didn’t she have you take her to Fenris?”

“You’re suggesting that Hawke’s potentially mage child would be better off with a drunk, mage-hating elf prone to ripping out hearts rather than bothering to speak?”

It was Anders turn to snort.  “He’s obviously her father, Bella.  I highly doubt even Fenris would turn away his own child.”

 

 

“There is no way I’m keeping that child,” Fenris hissed, the moment Merrill joined him on the front steps. 

“Her name is Amelia.”

“That hardly matters as she won’t be staying.”

“But Fenris, it was Hawke’s wishes.  She said that Varric’s letter was urgent and that she wasn’t certain when she would be able to return, if at all.”

Fenris blanched.  “She expects to die?  Venhedis, Merrill, where has she gone?”

“I wouldn’t tell you even if I knew,” the blood elf insisted, her expression sympathetic but firm.  “She simply told me that her journey would be long and that it was time that you grew to know your daughter.”

 _Daughter._ Again Fenris felt the sensation of a knife twisting in his gut though there had been no attack.  He had a daughter with Hawke and the woman hadn’t even deemed him important enough to notify.  Would she have been content to keep the girl from him forever if _Varric_ hadn’t commanded her attention?

Growling softly, Fenris shook his head.  “No.  She cannot stay.  I have no means to provide for the child even if I were inclined to do so.  I hunt slavers, the only gold I have is what I take from their bodies.  Hawke trusted you with the child…you can simply keep her.”

He thought he saw a flash of anger in her eyes before Merrill’s expression turned decidedly towards pity.  “Oh Lethallan, she is not a thing you can simply turn down like a pair of boots that doesn’t fit right.  She is yours, your heart beats within her.  Perhaps Hawke knew that you were not ready before.”

Fenris thought about waiting for Hawke that night, after the rebellion, after she had let Anders leave and had insisted she needed time to recover from the loss.  He had been ready to leave behind Danarius’s molding mansion, to move forward with Hawke and face life anew only to find that she had slipped away like a thief in the night.  “Do not speak to me of Hawke knowing anything but what pleases her.”

Merrill bowed her head, her attention taken up entirely with the way her fingers fluttered at the pouch at her side.  “Ir abelas, Lethallan.  I know that her leaving injured you.  But she has left a letter, I would ask that you read it before you make up your mind.”

It was pathetic how eager his mind was to latch onto her words.  How his heart jumped at the thought of reading Hawke’s familiar scrawl, how much the thought of it reminded him of the hours she had spent teaching him his letters.  As much as he wanted to tell the witch to burn the letter and leave he found himself holding out a reluctant hand, one that trembled slightly when Merrill dropped the letter onto it. 

 

 

“Is Fenris even aware that he has a daughter?” Anders demanded, knowing from the way that Isabela’s eyes shifted rather than meet his that the answer was no.  Somehow the thought of the brooding elf having no idea he had a child knocked Anders for a loop more than momentarily believing Felicia to be his. 

**It is unjust.**

_Not now Justice._   Anders sighed and shook his head slightly as he stared at the pirate.  “Isabela, how could she?”

“Listen Sweet Cheeks, all I know is I was in Ostwick getting ready to head back to Antiva when she found me.  Told me Varric needed her, something to do with those green holes in the sky and that she wasn’t sure when she would be able to return.  Gave me a letter to give to you and…”

“A letter?” Anders sighed, then did so again when he watched the pirate reach into the scrap she called a top and pull out a folded letter, sealed with Hawke’s signet and bathed in Isabela’s scent.

Isabela handed it over with a shrug.  “Sorry, got a little distracted when it was actually you.  This wasn’t exactly the first hovel I’d…”

Anders was no longer listening, his attention completely taken up by Hawke’s familiar scrawl.  In an instant the four years since he’d last seen her seemed to fade away and he was once again left to feel that familiar ache that loving her and knowing she’d never felt the same had caused.

_Dearest Anders,_

_By now Izzy will have no doubt introduced you to Felicia.  It is my hope that you will take care of her in my absence as you always wanted to take care of me.  Of course, at this point, I can’t be certain whether she will manifest as a mage or not, but in the case that she does, I can think of no one whom I would trust more to teach her right from wrong._

_I know that things between us ended...poorly.  But I hope that you can look past that and see that Felicia needs you Anders, perhaps more than I ever did._

_Maker willing I will see you both again and you can yell at me in person.  But until then, know that I forgive you for everything._

_Yours,_

_Marian_

 

“Damn you Hawke.”

“I take it that means you’ll be keeping Felicia.”

**We cannot take in the young human.**

Anders ignored the spirit.  “Yes, Bella.  It would seem I have gained a daughter.  Maker help her.”

 

 

Fenris read through the letter a second time, hoping to find that he had overlooked some little detail that would tell him that Hawke felt even one moment of regret for keeping his…well, the child, a secret.

_My Dear Fenris,_

_I am sure Merrill was a shock and Amelia even more so.  I would not leave her if I did not believe Varric’s need to be great.  I trust that you will care for her in my absence._

_I can think of no one I trust more to watch over what is most important to me._

_Yours,_

_Marian_

 

 _Yours._  Fenris thought bitterly, his fingers crumpling the letter as if doing so might ease some of the pain in his heart that Hawke’s letter caused.  He wanted to turn the child out.  To demand that Merrill take her with her and that they never darken his doorstep again.  And yet, he could not deny that the child was his.  That Hawke referred to her as her as the most important thing in her life, surely that meant that she did not regret the fact that her time with him resulted in a child. 

And the child had already lost her mother, how could he turn away the only flesh and blood he had and call himself anything but a monster?

“Lethallan …”

“Go, witch.”

“Fenris, surely you don’t mean…”

“I will take the child as Hawke wishes and you will go.  It seems that I have a daughter to get to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ir abelas: I’m sorry


	2. Memory Driven, Honor Bound

**Counting Crows – Round Here, Daylight Fading and Walkaways**

“Shit, Varric.  I sure hope you know what you’ve gotten me into,” Hawke muttered as she reined in her mount, her attention less on the horse and more on the towering fortress that had just come into view before her.  When Varric had told her that the Inquisition had been forced into new quarters after their encounter with Corypheus, and wasn’t that a name from her past that she had hoped to never encounter again, she had pictured some cobbled together settlement of soldiers and runaways.  Someplace she could blend in without notice and slip out the same way.

Instead she found _this_.  Not only was the fortress enormous and practically reeked even from a distance with the power that had seeped into its stones through the ages, but there was only one way in and out of the place.  A soft tingling at the back of her neck demanding that she flee warred with the fact that Varric’s letter held all the little signs they had long ago agreed upon between them to verify that it had indeed been him that penned the missive. 

In the end, it came down to Corypheus.  That bastard magister she’d been forced to set loose and had been just as certain she’d left dead in that stinking prison.  Just the thought of that thing walking free was enough to pull a shiver from her and she sighed heavily, pulling the hood up on her cloak before merging back into the line of merchants and refugees that were streaming up the road toward the main gate.  For now, her only possible move was forward.

 

 

Varric had no Maker-forsaken clue what he was doing.  That much was obvious the moment Hawke dropped from her mount and found Varric hovering and calling her ‘Charlotte’.  But even if it hadn’t been, the speed with which he hustled her up the stairs to an upper courtyard and past the tavern without even offering to stop for a drink would have told her something was up.  Perhaps the worst though was the way he’s all but stuffed her into the drafty room she was currently occupying, muttering something about coming back later and not going outside least the Seeker find out.

Shaking her head, Hawke stepped away from what she had generously decided was a ‘window’ because that sounded better than thinking that Varric had actually dropped her into a room that was missing bricks on two of the four walls.  Of course, last time she’d seen Varric he was still content with his quarters at The Hanged Man so perhaps he wasn’t the best judge of appropriate accommodations.

Hawke sighed as she dropped onto the bed in the corner, sparking a fire in the hearth with a flick of her wrist before digging through her pack.  She grew anxious for a moment, fearing that somehow she had lost her journal, that even though if it wasn’t in her hands it was always in her pack it had somehow jostled free.  But then her finger closed around it and she pulled it out, her fingers rapidly flipping through the sheets of paper until she found the pages she wanted and with a soft sigh she ran the tip of one finger down cheeks drawn in ink.

Amelia…her little fighter.  First born and always the first to try anything new, she reminded Hawke so much of her father it almost hurt sometimes.  Shifting her attention over to the facing page she saw the drawing of Felicia.  Quieter than her sister, more prone to quietly watch what was going on before cautiously joining in. 

Even knowing that it was the right thing to do, it hurt to be sitting here now, so far from them both.  The cold paper no substitute for their warm, silky skin.  The way their hair still smelled like babies even though they were both old enough to tell her that she was a ‘silly mama’ when she called them that. 

She wasn’t aware of crying until the first tear hit the page and then she quickly closed the journal, rubbing her hand over the cover slowly instead.  Those two drawings were all she had to remember the girls by, at least the only things that didn’t reside in her own memory.  Much like the journal held all of her thoughts since she made the incredibly hard decision to keep her pregnancy from Fenris. 

“Crap, Fen,” Hawke whispered into the empty room.  Of everything she’d done in the past four years that one decision haunted her more than all the others.  Because she’d wanted to believe Fenris when he’d told her that he regretted leaving her the way he did, wanted to give him the chance to prove that he could stand by her and really see her for who she was, not just what she represented.

But finding out that she was pregnant meant that her own desires weren’t the most important anymore.  And then, before she could decide whether Fenris was actually in it for the long haul, Anders had forced her hand with the Chantry explosion and what little bit of Kirkwall Anders didn’t bring tumbling down Meredith happily destroyed.

Standing with the mages had been a given, and for one brief second when he agreed to stand beside her, she’d thought of telling Fenris.  But she couldn’t get past the fact that he had agreed with Sebastian that Anders should die for the destruction of the Chantry.  Hadn’t even hesitated before telling her that if Anders wanted to die she should go ahead and do it, and she had held her tongue.

It wasn’t until she returned to the estate, alone and exhausted and almost overwhelmed by the sheer level of destruction that had occurred, that she realized she could not remain in Kirkwall.  That if she stayed, she would find no peace.  The citizens wanted their Champion even if that Champion no longer felt fit for the task.  And she was, quite frankly, tired.

So for her child’s sake, and Maker hadn’t it been a surprise six months later when she’d found out that child was actually children, she had packed her bag and walked away from Kirkwall that night leaving word with no one but Varric about where she would be.  Walked away with every intent to let the Champion of Kirkwall die along with so many others in the streets that day.

She should have known better.


	3. Travel Changes A Man

**Meg Myers – Sorry (Fenris)**

**Goo Goo Dolls – Here is Gone (Anders)**

 

“Anzer, I’z hungee.”

Anders looked down to find Felicia tugging gently at the bottom of his tunic, her lower lip stuck out and quivering in a pout he was quite certain shouldn’t be perfected in one so young.

“Dinna know ye had kin, Healer,” Ruthie said, reaching out one weathered hand to run gently across the top of Felicia’s head. 

“She’s the daughter of an old friend,” Anders admitted, tying off the bandage that covered the mostly healed wound to the old woman’s shoulder.  Ruthie had come to him the first time almost a week ago after one of those green rifts had appeared in her cornfield and investigating had gotten her shoulder seared by a despair demon.  She was lucky to have been caught at a distance, any closer and the blighted thing would have killed her straight off.  Instead, Anders had been able to stop the frostbite from taking her arm but it would leave a mark not even his healing could entirely prevent.

**We should be out fighting the demons before more become injured.  The child distracts you.**

Ignoring Justice and the argument he had been making for the past week, Anders helped Ruthie off the exam table and walked her toward the door.  “The wound is almost healed, but I’d like to see you again next week just to make certain there are no further ill effects.  I trust you’ve got the rift blocked off.”

“Aye, my Daniel put a fence up but I’ve lost almost half my crops, Healer.  If I don’t find a way to get rid of those things I’m afraid I won’t be able to put up enough for the winter…”

Ruthie was interrupted by Anders’s door slamming open, drawing a startled gasp from Felicia as she hid behind him when two men Anders was unfamiliar with came through carrying a third between them, his chest covered in blood.

“Put him here,” Anders commanded, pointing at the table before turning towards Felicia and dropping down on one knee.  “Sweetheart, I need you to go get an apple off the kitchen table and then go to the bedroom.  I’ll be in soon and we’ll go to the market and get some of those sweet rolls you like, alright?”

The child just nodded solemnly, her eyes wide as she glanced at the man writhing on the table behind Anders for a moment before doing as he’d bade.  Turning his own attention back to the injured he quickly pulled the man’s tunic from his body to reveal a jagged puncture wound that went clean through him.  “What happened?”

“We were in the fields, Dougan and I were repairing a trough and Miller was checking on the cattle when one of those green things just opened right on top of him.  He ran for it and this demon screamed at him and run him clean through.  I thought he was done for but Miller kept stumbling towards us and eventually the demon just went back to where the rest of them was…like he couldn’t go no further or something.”

**This man’s injuries are our fault.  We should have…**

_Justice, shut the fuck up,_ Anders practically roared at the spirit, surprised when it did as he requested, leaving Anders free to work a hand carefully beneath his patient while resting the second one on top.  With a low sigh he let his healing magic loose, ignoring Ruthie’s voice calming the two men who’d witnessed the attack in favor of cataloguing the man’s injuries.  Starting with the torn bowels he began to slowly knit flesh back together, encouraging blood flow to slow enough that the man didn’t bleed out on his table while still keeping his heart beating.  After the bowels he moved on to the kidney then liver, healing not only the organs but also the blood vessels that had been torn apart as he went, slowly increasing the man’s blood flow to keep the organs healthy as he knit back muscle and fat and finally skin.  As he pushed one final surge of magic through the man’s system and found no other damage, Anders nodded his head wearily and looked up to find that only Ruthie remained in the room with him.

“I sent the others on back to make sure no one else gets near those things.  Dougan was talking about going to see the Duke.  We can’t keep pretending these demons don’t exist.”

_Don’t say it_ , Anders grumbled preemptively as he felt Justice starting to stir.  “I have to admit, I’m hoping the Duke has some answers,” Anders muttered, heading towards the door.  “I appreciate you staying but Miller will be out all night, I’ll keep an eye on him ‘til morning.”

“And that little one of yours, Healer, you sure you don’t want me to fix you both up some supper?”

If it had just been him Anders would have declined and the promptly passed out for a couple of hours.  Miller had taken just about every bit of mana he possessed and he needed to recover.  But he wasn’t on his own and from the way light was quickly fading inside the cabin he had probably been at it for hours.  Swallowing his own pride he acquiesced.  “If you’re sure you don’t mind.  I’m sure I have enough for a stew or some such…”

“Go rest, Healer.  Check on your little one.  I can certainly manage some vegetables in a pot.”

Anders chuckled weakly and headed towards his small bedroom only to find Felicia curled up in the middle of his bed, sound asleep.  Crossing the room to sit down next to her he brushed her hair away from her face, something in him softening when she scrunched her nose up and shuffled closer to him.  Giving in, he laid down, letting her snuggle up to his side as he stroked his fingers through her hair, his thoughts on what Ruthie had said.

The old woman was right, the rifts couldn’t be allowed to continue but so far any attempt to kill the demons that walked beneath them just garnered more demons the moment the first batch was dispatched.  There were rumors about the rifts being closed in the south, that the Inquisition Varric was currently working with was having some success in the fight.  But by the time they made their way this far north Anders feared there would be no one left to save.

Eventually the wounded would become more than even he could handle, yet with Felicia to think about he couldn’t just go confront the demons himself as Justice continued urging him to do.  That left him only one option.  If the solution was in the South he would just have to follow Hawke to Skyhold.  Perhaps there he could get the answers he sought.

 

 

 

“Elf-blooded.”

Fenris’s ear twitched as he barely contained his irritation.  It had been the same for the past ten days.  Oh, the merchants were more than happy to take his coin and coo over Amelia to his face and then the moment he turned his back…the slurs.  If they had contented themselves to the typical knife-ear or rabbit he would have found it easier to ignore than their obvious comfort in insulting a child too small to be aware of what their names meant.

“Daddy…” Amelia whined, Fenris’s heart clenching in what was becoming a normal sensation at being called that, his attention turning down to where she was pouting up at him.  “Why walks so fast?”

“My apologies, mellitus,” Fenris crooned, scooping the child up and nuzzling into her neck until she giggled.

“Silly, Daddy.”

Fenris sighed as Amelia tucked her head into his neck, relaxing against him as he carried her through the marketplace back towards his quarters.  For the first time he thought he might understand why Hawke had kept the child from him, because if this was the response he received here to being seen with Amelia he could only imagine how much worse it would have been among the upper class of Kirkwall.

He felt the moment Amelia fell asleep, her weight settling heavier against his hip only a moment before he climbed the stairs to the rooms they shared.  What startled him however was that even once he’d laid her down in bed, covering her carefully with a blanket and brushing the hair from her face, he still felt that weight sitting heavy on him.  The weight of doing what was right for someone else.  The knowledge that in ten short days he’d learned to love someone so intently that the thought of giving her up was akin to being asked to cut off his own arm, and yet he knew that Hawke had been mistaken. 

Because even if they moved on to another town it would only be more of the same.  He was an elf, there was no pretending that he wasn’t and because of his markings he attracted even more attention that the normal elf.  Amelia might look human, but just by being in his presence she would be labeled a half-blood, accepted into neither human nor elf culture.

Which was why as he looked down at his daughter, Maker, he’d never thought he’d ever say that, he knew he had only one option.  He needed to track down Hawke and take her place in whatever scheme Varric had gotten her involved in.  His daughter needed her mother.

 

 

 

In the few days it took Anders to locate a mount that he believed wouldn’t die on them halfway into the journey another rift opened, luckily this time in a fallow field.  Ignoring Justice had begun to turn into a full time battle, even after Ruthie had stopped by with word that Duke Pentaghast was sending troops to investigate and secure the sites.

But no matter what the spirit wanted, Anders would not be dissuaded from his decision to travel south.  Especially once Ruthie managed to actually find him a mare that looked capable of carrying both he and Felicia as long as he didn’t push her too hard.  And while the mare had cost him most of his reserve gold, so far she was proving to be worth her weight as they made their way steadily across the Fields of Ghislain towards Montfort.  Anders was hoping to resupply there and skip past Val Royeaux, uncertain of his reception should he be recognized by one of the mages of the White Spire.

“Papa?”

Anders smiled and looked down to find Felicia blinking up at him, her head tilted back so she could look straight up at him.  The ‘papa’ thing had started a couple of days ago after she woke up from a nightmare.  She had practically burrowed into him and as he’d stroked her hair and whispered to her soothingly she had looked up at him shyly and whispered the word.  Even though he still wasn’t certain he should encourage it, he would be lying if he said it didn’t warm a little spot deep inside him.  “What’s the matter, Princess?”

She giggled, blushing slightly as she scooted around in the saddle, forcing him to tighten his grip around her waist.  “I’z not a p’incess, Papa.”

“You’re my princess,” Anders assured her with a little squeeze.  “And what is it my princess wants?”

“Iz we’z almos’ there?”

Anders laughed.  “No, not even close, little one.”

“But Iz miss Mama and ‘Melia,” Felicia pouted.

Anders frowned.  He could understand the child missing Hawke, but he wasn’t certain who ‘Melia was.  Everytime he asked Felicia told him that she was her ‘sissy’ but Anders had begun to assume that it was another child who Felicia spent time with.  He wasn’t quite certain how to explain that her little friend wouldn’t be there when they arrived in Skyhold.  Maker, he couldn’t even guarantee Hawke would be there, though he certainly hoped she would be.  Sighing softly, Anders settled for whispering, “I know you do princess, I know you do.”

 

 

 

“Zee girl iz your daughter, no?”

Fenris stared coldly at the Orlesian occupying the bench on the other side of the carriage.  He couldn’t say exactly what it was about the man but he set Fenris’s nerves on fire and made his markings itch to light up.  “She is.”

“It iz very hard…to be of mixed blood.  May I ask where you are ‘eaded?”

“No, you may not,” Fenris growled, thankful that Amelia was currently sleeping and had therefore been spared this conversation. 

The man snorted at Fenris but turned to look out the window of the carriage as though content to let the conversation die.  But the man’s hands told a different story, clenched tightly to his thighs as though he really wanted to smack Fenris for daring to speak to him in that manner. 

Fenris cursed the fact that he’d felt compelled to utilize a hired coach to ferry them from Cumberland to Val Royeaux, but he wasn’t comfortable enough atop a horse to trust Amelia riding with him and to attempt the trip by foot would have added weeks.  If he had been in any other port than Cumberland he might have attempted to purchase passage across the Waking Sea, but considering he had been in the city to ferret out slavers he knew better than to trust his luck to any of the captains that called that port home.

Telling himself only two more days and then they could possibly chance catching a boat out of Val Royeaux, or at worst, cut further west before heading south to Verchiel and further on to Skyhold.  As he watched the rolling plains slip past them Fenris caught sight of the Orlesian glancing down at Amelia more than once and tightened his hold on his daughter.  Andraste herself wouldn’t be able to help the man if he thought to touch one hair on the child’s head.

 

 

Anders first instinct had been to give the monastery a wide berth, a decision that was only revised at the last moment when he got close enough for Justice to smell the burning of wood and to see that the walls surrounding the retreat had been broken down and hastily mended with scraps of wood and what appeared to be an old wagon.

**They may require aid.**

_They’re Chantry._

**That does not preclude the need of aid.**

_Templars ring any bells Justice?_

**If there are Templars there why do they not defend the walls?  We cannot simply ignore these people’s plight.**

_Think of Felicia._

**I will guard the child Anders.  None will harm her.**

Shit.  Anders stopped the horse and stared for the longest time, certain that Justice meant his words but that would do no good if the Templars harmed Felicia before Justice could prevent it.  And yet, the spirit was right in that if there were Templars present they should be visible repairing the walls and clearing out the damaged buildings. 

In the end it was the thought of who might have been injured in those buildings that swayed the healer in Anders.  Though as he drew closer and still found no signs of life he began to wonder if the building had been abandoned entirely.  Approaching the gate cautiously, it wasn’t until they almost on top of it that a woman stepped out of the building, waving him off.  “Go away, there’s nothing left.”

“What happened here?”

“What didn’t?”  The Chantry sister chuffed.  “Apostates, looters, even our own Templars as they left.  If you hope to steal something you’re too late.”

“I’m no looter.  I saw the smoke and was concerned about the injured.”

The woman squinted at him, regarding him critically for a moment.  “You a healer?”

 “Papa’s da bestest healer,” Felicia piped up bravely before shyly dipping her head low enough to bury it in the horse’s mane.

“Papa huh?” The Chantry sister laughed, stepping towards the gate as she apparently decided Anders was no threat.  “Won’t deny we could use your help.  There are only a few of us left and the only healer left with the other Templars.”

Swinging out of the saddle, Anders lifted Felicia off the mount and settled her next to him before approaching the now open gates.  “Name’s Frederick, this is my daughter Felicia.”

“Sister Agnes,” the woman responded with a nod.  “If you’ll follow me, you can leave your horse here, she’s as safe as anything else at the moment.”

Anders snorted.  If anything, the inner courtyard of the monastery looked even worse than the walls, the outer buildings all looked as though the doors had been torn off the hinges and the remains of a once well-tended garden were trampled beyond repair.  In the distance Anders could see acres of grapevines, some still intact while others had been burned beyond saving. 

Swinging Felicia into his arms he stepped over the charred remains of a wagon, the even burn to the wood telling him that no ordinary fire had done this.  “You say mages attacked you?”

“Bastards were after the Templars, intended to drag them out of here and kill them all.  We barricaded ourselves in the main hall and when it became obvious that not even they could burn down stone they took to destroying the vineyards and the outbuildings.  Guess they figured if they couldn’t kill us outright they’d starve us to death.”

**This is not just.  We did not free the mages to see them suppress others.**

Anders frowned at the tone he heard in the spirit’s words.  This wasn’t the first time they’d seen firsthand that mages were just as capable of destruction as anyone else, it was just perhaps the most mindlessly destructive.

“Don likes dis pace, Papa,” Felicia whispered, her words hot against his throat as her fingers clenched his tunic tightly.

“I know princess, but there are people hurt I can help,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as he hurried after Sister Agnes.  Climbing the few stone steps to the main hall Anders followed Agnes though stone doors that still bore signs of scorching into what had obviously originally been their chapel but had now been turned into living quarters.  He caught sight of four more Chantry sisters bustling around, though only a couple bothered to even glance his way before continuing on with their duties.

“Phillipe is just this way,” Sister Agnes whispered, her voice still echoing slightly through the empty room.  “He was the only Templar who did not abandon us.  He was trying to salvage what he could from the storehouse when the first looters came.”

Anders steps had faltered the moment he heard ‘Templar’, his first instinct to refuse to assist which only sent a wave of shame coursing through him a moment later.  This man had done nothing to him personally and when all of his other brethren had run off he alone had stayed to defend the aging Chantry sisters.  Anders didn’t need Justice harping at him to know that his feelings were unfair.

Thankfully, before he could fall too far behind Sister Agnes stopped also, her attention turning to Felicia as she gestured to a cot by the fire.  “Perhaps the child would be better off here.  Phillip is…well, the fact that he still breathes is surprising.”

Attempting to drop Felicia onto the cot proved more difficult than anticipated when she clung to his neck like a particularly strong burr.  “Stay wif Papa.”

“Felicia, I’ll just be…” before Anders could finish a grey kitten hopped up onto the cot and nudged at Felicia’s hip. 

“’itty,” Felicia cried, her fingers falling away from Anders to bury themselves in the kitten’s soft fur, pulling a purr from the cat as it nudged her again.

Running his hand over the cat’s head once, Anders smiled.  It would seem he wasn’t the only one with a preference for felines.  Perhaps once they got settled somewhere a bit more permanent…

“Healer Frederick?”

Just when had he started thinking that having Felicia with him might be permanent?  Shaking his head softly, Anders stood.  “Coming.”

He wasn’t quite certain what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t a boy who barely looked as if he’d achieved majority.  At least, that was Anders first impression below the bruises that covered the man head to toe.  He cringed slightly when he saw the way the man’s arm was lying, the forearm not quite in the correct alignment but it was the deep cuts that bothered Anders most.  That they had attempted to clean the wounds was obvious, but it was equally obvious from way the skin around them rose red and puffy that they had become infected.

Kneeling beside the Templar’s cot, Anders found it impossible to dredge up his usual hatred for the group that had taken so much from him.  This man, barely more than a boy, deserved more than death for attempting to do what he’d thought right.  Stretching his hand out and feeling the heat of the fever before he ever came in contact with the Templar’s forehead, Anders slipped into healing mode.  “I need clean bandages and boiling water.”

“Yes, Healer,” Sister Agnes whispered before bustling off toward the fire Felicia sat near.  Smiling softly at the sight of his daughter…hum, he rather thought he liked the sound of that…playing with the kitten, Anders let his eyes slip shut as he sent the first tendril of magic out into the wounded man before him.

 

By the time Sister Agnes returned with the bandages Anders had managed to stop the internal bleeding caused by a broken rib, since repaired, perforating his liver, also repaired.  Anders had also pushed a bit of magic through the man’s system to clear out the infection caused by the open wounds.  Without knowing just how devout this cloister was, though considering they had had their own regiment of Templars the odds were probably very, he was unwilling to perform any further magic.

Digging through his pack for a needle and thread he took the water from Sister Agnes and cleaned out the largest of the wounds, making certain the blood from it ran a clean bright red before beginning the stitches.  As he moved slowly from wound to wound Anders was surprised to find himself thinking of Fenris and how the prickly elf always insisted that Anders use traditional methods to treat him unless it was absolutely life-threatening.  Even though it had been years since he’d actually set eyes on the elf Anders could still see that little smirk Fenris wore as clear as if he stood before him, could hear his dismissive tone when he’d mutter ‘stop, mage’, which was infinitely preferable to ‘abomination’. 

Eyes darting across the room to where Felicia was now curled up, sound asleep on the cot with the kitten tucked up tightly against her, Anders felt a moment’s guilt for essentially usurping Fenris’s spot in his daughter’s life.  As much as it would hurt him, Anders couldn’t help but think that perhaps once Hawke’s obligations to the Inquisition had been filled he should convince her to track down Fenris.

**It would be just.**

 

 

 

“Ooooh, Daddy, it’s so pwetty.”

Fenris looked down at Amelia, her eyes glued to Orlais as it lay out before them.  The towering white columns trimmed in gold, multicolored silk banners fluttering in the breeze as the late afternoon sun turned the waters of the bay gold. 

Part of him wondered if he’d ever been so innocent.  If there had been a time when he wouldn’t have seen the street rat that darted between people, nudging them so softly that they never even noticed he’d lifted their gold or the fact that civility here was maintained by armed guards that stood in pairs next to each door or that in the sea of humans he saw only two elves, both obviously servants by the way they trailed after their mistress bearing her packages. 

“Isn’t it, Daddy, isn’t it?”

Fenris forced a smile to his face as he swept Amelia up into his arms.  “It absolutely is, filia mea.”

As he headed toward the center of town he wondered if the sweet shop still stood where it had the last time he’d visited.  He had a feeling Amelia would be partial to those little cakes robed in chocolate.  And it was getting late, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to find a room for the night, perhaps someplace with a view of the water.

 

In the end they spent two more days in Val Royeaux.  And Fenris finally learned exactly what Hawke meant when she used to accuse him of giving her the ‘sad puppy stare’.  Perhaps worse, he was certain Hawke would have found his inability to deny Amelia anything when she looked at him that way absolutely hilarious. 

Which was how they had ended interspersing his inquiries about securing a ship to the far coast with trips to the gardens and a very memorable afternoon spent watching several puppet shows.  And it would seem it took equal amounts of time to select supplies for their journey as it did the correct sweet from the shop.  Unsurprisingly, he had been correct about the little cakes, though Amelia had insisted on trying almost every variety on offer ‘just ‘cause, Daddy’.

A little hand tightening its hold on his hand had him looking down, only to find his own eyes staring back up at him, excitement shining in them.  “We’z goin’, Daddy?”

Crouching down he tucked her body into the space between his knees as he pointed over the boat railing.  “Do you see the docks moving yet?”

“No,” she pouted, little foot stomping impatiently and reminding him so much of Hawke that he couldn’t help but laugh.  Scowling up at him Amelia opened her mouth to speak just as a shudder ran through the ship, pulling a little squeak from her instead as she pressed back into his leg.

“Hush, little mouse, that’s just the anchor.  Look, I believe you’ll find we’re moving.”

“Yay!  We’z gonna go see Mama and ‘Lecia.”

“We still have quite a journey ahead of us, mellitus,” Fenris reminded her only to get a rapid hand wave in response as Amelia pulled away from him stood on tiptoe to look out over the railing at city begin to fall behind them.

As he rose to his feet and stepped behind his daughter, his hands bracing her shoulders, Fenris tried to tell himself that he absolutely was not jealous that Hawke had apparently found a new companion named Alicia.

 

 

“We’z almos’ der, Daddy?”

Fenris took a little hop step, making Amelia shriek and grab at his head from her position on his shoulders.  “Not yet, ‘Melia.”

They had made good time after leaving the ship and should see the Winter Palace at Halamshiral within the next day.  While the palace itself should be only sparsely populated during these late summer months, Fenris was looking forward to showing Amelia the city proper.  It was one of the few places he had ever been where being an elf was the norm rather than the exception, though with his markings he still stood out.

“I’z bored,” Amelia sighed, dropping her head down so her cheek rested against the top of his head, her little fingers tickling at the tops of his ear just to watch it twitch.

“I know, filia mea,” Fenris chuckled.  It seemed as though he heard that same statement a dozen times a day now that they were moving slower, apparently the view from his shoulders was no comparison to the deck of the ship.  “Would you like to walk for awhile?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Amelia agreed, bouncing on his shoulders as he stopped to lift her off. 

Fenris laughed at the way she shot off down the road like a rabbit, a seemingly invisible string halting her only a moment before he would have called out that she was getting too far away.  Looking over her shoulder she waited for him to catch up some before running further.  Again he was reminded of Hawke, the way the mage was always the first into battle, the first ready to go another round after battle, pretty much the first anywhere they went.  It had taken him a long time to learn that it wasn’t that she didn’t trust the rest of them, it was just in her nature to always be seeking out something new.

He frowned slightly as he followed Amelia’s stop and start passage up the road, wondering if perhaps that was why Hawke had left him in the long run.  Had she not understood that he would have followed wherever she led, would have happily walked by her side as he walked by Amelia’s now.  Amelia.  Smiling now as he watched his daughter get distracted by something next to the road, Fenris closed the distance between them.  Hard to believe that only a few short weeks ago he had begged Merrill to take the girl with her when she left and now, now he was uncertain what he would do if Hawke refused to allow him to continue to be a part of their lives. 

“Daddy, come looks.”

“Coming…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felia mea: my daughter  
> mellitus: darling


	4. Opposing Ideals

**Goo Goo Dolls – Sympathy**

Anders had made the decision to stick close to the coast once they reached the southern side of the Waking Sea.  While that put them at greater risk for encountering pirates and slavers, he felt the risk outweighed potentially encountering Grey Wardens in Montsimmard or Templars guarding the Winter Palace in Halamshiral.

So far it had been a good decision, the trip was quiet and the weather near the coast, though cloudy, had remained free of rain.  At the moment Felicia was dozing off, Anders arm wrapped tightly around her as her head bobbed slightly with each step the horse took. 

Allowing his mind to drift as he watched the sun catch on the waters of the Waking Sea, Anders was lost in memories of time spent on the other side of it.  Days spent hunting down slavers and saving lives and nights spent wrapped up in Hawke’s arms.  Snorting derisively at himself he was forced to admit that the whole Hawke thing had been relatively short-lived, but that didn’t change the fact that Anders had loved her at the time.  Shit, part of him still loved her even after she’d gone back to Fenris the moment the elf had finally sorted out his feelings.

**She was a distraction.**

_Life is a distraction, Justice._ Anders snapped at the spirit, then immediately feeling guilty because it wasn’t Justice’s fault that his words only reminded Anders of the truth.  It had been him that was the distraction for Hawke when she had lost Fenris and had needed someone to cling to.  In all honesty, even knowing how it ended he’d do it again.  Because a little broken heart was nothing compared to the trust and friendship Hawke had showed him through the years.  Maker, she’d left her daughter with him.

**She is…**

_Do not say it,_ Anders growled, tightening his hold on Felicia.  Because if Hawke had been the truest friend he’d ever had then Felicia was like the best of that friendship brought to life.  She was everything bright and light and loving and the one thing he would never think of her as was a _distraction_.

As Justice withdrew to pout in some dark corner of his mind Anders turned his attention back to the ground they were covering.  At the moment they were on a bluff, a long stretch of rocky beach running twenty feet below that the waves crashed into.  It was a peaceful scene…right up until he heard the first telltale sounds of battle.  Swords clashing and flames shooting into the air.  Reining in their mount he looked farther up the beach from where they were and saw mages clashing with Templars.

**This is not just.**

Shit.  Of course he was back front and center, Anders thought with a sigh before answering.  _We have Felicia to think of._

**She will be fine on the bluff.  You must aid them.**

**ANDERS.  YOU WILL HELP THEM.**

No, no, no.  Anders could feel Justice surging against him, attempting to take over his body in a way the spirit hadn’t since the day of the Chantry explosion.  Thankfully Anders was stronger now, a benefit of actual sleep and plentiful food, and was able to keep Justice contained.  Though he understood the spirit’s rage, especially as he watched one of the mage’s stumble backwards, hit with what he assumed was a smite before being struck down by a Templar.

Cringing, Anders felt torn.  There was no reason for the Templar to kill that mage once the smite had been cast, and yet only seconds later two of the remaining mages performed a coordinated attack, ice and lightning that froze the Templar in his tracks before breaking his body into a thousand pieces.  Feeling Justice’s pleasure in the attack, Anders could only find regret.  This was not what he had wanted, for both sides to attack the other without mercy, without compassion.

**It is just.**

“For whom?” Anders cried softly, unable to keep his feelings bottled in as he watched helplessly as the mage’s killed the last remaining Templar before dipping into the tents, presumably to loot whatever valuables might remain.

Only when the surviving mages moved off did Anders dare to continue forward, finding a path from the ridgeline down to the rocky beach.  He might not have dared to get involved while the fight raged on, but he had been a healer for too long to just ignore that there might be wounded, despite the tactics he’d seen used. 

When he got close to the site of the battle, the air still thick with the scent of death and lyrium, he found a fallen tree, long ago stripped of any bark, that he could tie the horse off to.  Twisting Felicia in his arms he slid from the mare with her hugged tightly to him.

“Papa?”

“Sorry little one.  I need you to stay here with Sofia for a few minutes.”

“Wanna go wif you.”

“No, princess.  Not this time.  But I won’t be far,” he assured her, digging through the saddlebags and coming up with a couple of ripe apples.  “Here, you and Sofia can each have an apple and by the time you’re finished I’ll be back.”

Rubbing at her eyes, Felicia scowled at him but took the offered apple, watching as he feed the second one to the horse.  “’k, Papa.”

Slipping his staff from his back, Anders approached the small camp cautiously, not wanting to chance a sword to the gut for his troubles.  When he finally reached the first tent he let his magic creep, feeling for any hint of something living but finding nothing.  Carefully stepping over the bodies of a dead mage and a Templar, Anders peered into the tent and gasped.

Closing his eyes, Anders forced his lunch to stay in his stomach, breathing out heavily before opening his eyes again to find that he hadn’t been wrong.  Suddenly the reason for the Templars taking no prisoners was clear.  Because in this tent alone there had been four wounded men.  Broken legs, bandaged heads, splinted arms, all wounds that would have precluded them doing battle and every single one of them killed by a fire bolt directly to the heart.

**Why?**

Stumbling from the tent Anders looked at the four other tents that had been arranged in a horseshoe pattern around the fire pit and told himself that there was no way anyone had been left alive.  Guilt ate at him, hot and heavy as he told himself that he had been just one man.  That even if he had come to the Templars’ aid he would have been outnumbered and likely lying dead on the ground like the rest of them.

**This is was not just.**

Even knowing what he would find, his guilt drove him to enter the rest of the tents, only to find the same gruesome scene played out again and again.  Justice had cried out his displeasure and confusion through the first couple of tents but by the end had retreated so far into Anders mind he didn’t even feel the spirit at the moment.  Anders only wished he had the same luxury.

 

 

Fenris watched the mountains rise before them, peaks still snowy white even in the middle of summer, and knew that he had been right to heed the shopkeeper’s suggestions of heavy winter clothing.  Even if the thought of wearing the supple moccasins he’d selected did make his feet itch.  A hesitancy Amelia clearly didn’t share as she practically pranced next to him in her own tiny matching pair.  She had insisted on wearing them out of the store and had pouted for the last three mornings when Fenris’s own pair had remained firmly tucked in his pack.  Though at this rate, he had a feeling he’d be pulling them on tomorrow or risk frostbite.

His pleasant day souring by just the thought of cold, it quickly took a nosedive into horrible as the sound of thundering hooves rang out behind him.  Grabbing ahold of Amelia he quickly cleared the road, watching as two horses raced past him, each of them bearing two riders who couldn’t be more than ten, followed closely by another four horses, each of these carrying a Templar in full armor.

Frowning, Fenris watched from his spot at the side of the road as the Templar’s overtook the more burdened leading horses, forcing the four youths off their mounts and to their knees on the ground.  The sharp tang of the fade being pulled into this realm explained all he needed to know, the children were obviously young mages, not even of age to pass their Harrowing yet. 

With Amelia tugging at his hand in an effort to inspect wildflowers she saw off to the side of the road, Fenris still felt the fade cut, the Templars’ smite washing over his markings like an abrasive wind.  He let go of Amelia, allowing her a bit of freedom as he waited, expecting to see the Templars shackle the mages and take them with them only to watch in stunned horror as instead they drew their swords.  Surely…

Venhedis!  Fenris had to bite back a cry of denial as he watched the Templars behead the children right there in the streets.  The rich copper taste of blood hit his tongue even as he watched the bodies crumple, blood soaking the road while the Templars laughter carried to him on the breeze.  They had…they had...

“Daddy?”

Fenris only realized he had moved several steps towards the conflict when Amelia’s voice rang out behind him.  Immediately backtracking, he scooped his daughter up in his arms while cursing himself for being a fool.  What exactly did he think he was going to do?  Himself against four heavily armed, trained Templars?  And for what?  A set of corpses?

Kaffas, just the thought of those children kneeling there defenseless on the ground as the Templars murdered them had his breakfast threatening to make a reappearance.

“Daddy, whaz wrong?” Amelia’s little hands bracketed his face now and he was hard pressed to be able to formulate a response.

Swallowing hard he kept one eye on the Templars, now dragging the bodies to the side of the road like so much refuse and forced himself to answer evenly.  “I just think it might be time to explore a bit.”

“Ooooh, ‘splorin’s fun.”

Fenris wasn’t certain anything about this day could be called fun, but he pasted a smile he didn’t feel on his face anyway and headed off across the valley.  He had a feeling that no matter how much distance he put between himself and this nameless spot on the map he would never forget what he had seen here.  Perhaps more disturbing was that it was Anders he heard in his mind as they moved away.

_“By now, you must see what an injustice the Templars are.”_

“For the first time Anders, I think I do.”

“What, Daddy?”

“Nothing, mellitus.  Just thinking of an old…friend.”


	5. Too Little, Too Late

**Lifehouse – From Where You Are**

Anders pulled the hood of his cloak forward, cursing himself as he rode through the front gates of Skyhold even as Felicia was tipping her own head back, her eyes taking in the enormity of the fortress before them.

“Oh, Papa, itz so pity.”

Anders had no doubt she was right, even if he didn’t dare take his own eyes off the rows of Inquisition soldiers that were sparring in the courtyard before him.  Inquisition soldiers that moved a whole lot like Templars.  Which was stupid, because of course there would be Templars here, he had even seen them dotting the line of travelers moving up the mountain road.  But he hadn’t expected to see so many of them gathered just inside the gates. 

Even telling himself that there was no reason anyone here would know him, the back of his neck itched as though he were being watched.  Frederick, he was Frederick.  With the beard gained during a month of travel and a child on his hip, there was no reason for anyone here to believe him a liar other than Varric and Hawke.  Now he just had to find one of them.

“Excuse me Messere.”

Anders startled at the shift of the reins, his attention turning towards the soldier standing before him wearing Inquisition armor and currently holding his horse by the bridle.  Having to clear his throat which was suddenly dry as the desert despite the snow surrounding them, Anders muttered, “Yes?”

“First time in Skyhold?”

Not certain he could trust himself to speak further Anders nodded.

“Stables are to your right, Master Dennet runs a tight ship but he’s fair with the prices.  You and the little one will want to check in with Madame Montilyet about rooms.  Unless you’re here to trade?”

“No,” he choked out, “no trading.  Just here to visit with some old friends.”

“I’ll let you get to it then.  If you wouldn’t mind moving along, lots of people to get through today.”

Anders nodded, saving his little sigh of relief until he’d already turned the mare towards the huge barn that dominated the lower courtyard.  It took Felicia longer to say goodbye to Sofia than it did to find a stable boy and arrange boarding for the mare, and it was only after he agreed that they could come down and ‘visit’ with her tomorrow that Felicia was finally willing to take a step out of the barn. 

Smiling as he swung Felicia up into his arms, Anders had only taken two steps out into the fading daylight before a familiar voice halted him in his tracks.

“’Lissa always did say you had more bravery than brains.”

His eyes darted around the courtyard even though he knew there would be no escape that the woman behind him did not grant.  With a resigned sigh he turned.  “Leliana, I would say it’s good to see you but I can’t be certain of that yet.”

He thought he saw the beginnings of a smile twitch at her lips before she pursed her lips and shook her head at him.  “And you have always been too charming for your own good.  The child is Hawke’s I take it.”

“Mama ‘ere?” Felicia asked eagerly before shyness won out and she tucked her head against Ander’s throat.

There was no missing the moment of sympathy that passed over Leliana’s features, leaving Anders with a pit in his stomach.  Looking around the courtyard, Leliana stepped close enough to wrap her hand around Ander’s elbow as she whispered, “Let’s take this somewhere more private.”

He found himself hustled up a set of stairs that led through the kitchen of all places, and then through a room large enough to be a formal dining room though it was entirely devoid of furniture before stepping out into the great hall.

“Oooh, Papa.”

Anders smiled softly as he felt Felicia’s head tip up so she could look at the huge picture windows that flanked both ends of the hall and the banners that fluttered from the ceiling.  Ignoring the curious looks that were being leveled his way from a multitude of people in masks, Anders twisted his head to whisper, “Does it meet your approval, Princess?”

He didn’t have to see her face to know she was smiling, an expression that he saw matched on Leliana’s face even though she dunked her head to hide it when she opened the door on the far side of the hall and motioned for him to step through. 

When one more door led him into a well-appointed sitting room rather than into anything resembling the dungeons, Anders felt some of his anxiety fade.  A feeling that was further reduced as a dark-haired woman stood from her desk at the far end of the room and made her way towards him with a smile on her face.  

“Josie, I’d like you to meet…an old friend of mine and Cousland’s.  Anders, our ambassador and chief diplomat, Josephine Montilyet.”

“A pleasure Miss Montilyet,” Anders hurried to greet her with an outstretched hand, her hand only hesitating a moment as his name registered in her eyes before she met his.  “And this is Marian Hawke’s daughter, Felicia.”

“Oh!”

Anders bit back a grin at the look of shock on the diplomat’s face.  It would seem being presented with Hawke’s child was an even greater surprise than finding herself in the same room as the man who started the mage rebellion.

“Indeed,” Leliana drawled from her spot beside him.  “Perhaps we could have tea brought in Josie.  I believe Anders and I have much to discuss.”

Recovering flawlessly, Josephine nodded her head regally.  “Of course.  I’ll just see to that and be back in a moment to find suitable quarters for our guest.”

“Perhaps you might…”

“Oh, of course,” Josephine responded as though Leliana had actually finished her thought, leaving Anders to wonder just how well the pair knew each other.  Before he could dwell on that thought, Josephine was addressing Felicia.  “Would you like to go with me?  I believe we could find some chocolate to go with the tea.”

“Choc’at?” Felicia echoed, raising her head from Ander’s neck for the first time.  “Papa?”

“How can I compete with chocolate?” Anders chuckled, setting the girl down only to kneel before her as she clung to his leg uncertainly.  Raising a hand to cup her cheek he whispered, “You don’t have to do if you don’t want to.  But I’m sure Miss Josephine would appreciate your help.”

Felicia frowned at him for a moment before nodding and grinning broadly.  “’K, I’z helps.”

“Good girl.”

Josephine held out her hand and Felicia wrapped her small one in it, leaving Anders just a pang of unease as they walked out the door together.

“You are good with her.”

Resigned to Leliana’s interrogation Anders settled his pack and staff next to him before sitting down on the settee.  “I’ll answer any question you have Leliana but I have one of my own first.  Where exactly is Hawke?”

“I’m not willing to answer that just yet,” Leliana hedged, laying a restraining hand on his shoulder when he would have risen before joining him on the settee.  “I can tell you that she is with the Inquisitor and several other key members of the Inquisition.  With any luck they’ll be back within the next several weeks.”

“And Varric?”

“With them.”

Anders wasn’t certain why that reassured him more than anything else Leliana could have told him, but somehow he felt better knowing that Hawke had someone he knew watching her back.  “I suppose you have questions…”

“Beyond asking you what you were thinking dragging that child with you halfway across Thedas when the Chantry would still happily string you up from the nearest tree.”

“And you?”

Leliana looked away from him, transferring her attention to the fire before answering cautiously, “Losing Grand Cleric Elthina was certainly unfortunate, but in no way unanticipated.”

“Are you…”

“It might come as a shock to you to realize that the Divine was well aware that once Starkhaven’s Circle was destroyed the plight of the mage’s was destined to end in violence.  Despite the Devine’s best efforts to prevent it, Elthina knew the danger when she refused to return to the Grand Cathedral.”

“Then you…”

Leliana’s attention refocused on him like a sword to the chest, her expression bearing no semblance to the light-hearted bard who had been the lover of his Warden Commander.  “Make no mistake.  Understanding the desperation you felt does not mean that I condone your actions.  But neither can I find it in me to condemn you for striking the first inevitable blow.”

“I wish that I could apologize,” Anders said honestly, ignoring Justice when the spirit began rumbling in his mind.  The spirit had begun to withdraw from him after Montfort and had fallen all but silent after finding the murdered Templars.  “What of the Inquisition?  Will we be safe here until Hawke’s return?”

“You may have found the only place in Thedas that _would_ be safe for you,” Leliana smirked.  “The Inquisitor has chosen to side with the mages in this conflict.”

“And the Templars I saw wearing Inquisition uniforms?”

“Commander Cullen has…”

“Cullen?” Anders gasped.  “Knight-Captain Cullen?”

“ _Commander_ Cullen has been very clear that the Templars who choose to join the Inquisition are to no longer consider themselves part of the Order.  As for Cullen himself, well at the moment he is with the Inquisitor and I shall make certain he is aware of your arrival.”

“You spoke of the Chantry’s order to have me killed?” Anders asked hesitantly, unable to believe that Leliana’s words could possibly be true.  That he might actually be able to exist here without fear of discovery.

Leliana actually chuckled at him this time, leaning back against the settee and grinning before answering.  “While your journey here was foolhardy, as long as you choose to stay in Skyhold you need not fear.  After all, it would hardly behoove us to allow the Chantry to deprive us of such a skilled healer.  Provided of course that your spirit companion is contained.”

“Justice won’t be a problem,” Anders assured her even as he issued a firm internal warning to the spirit, only to get the vaguest of nods back.  “And I would be happy to assist your healers in whatever manner they might require.”

Whatever Leliana’s response would have been was swallowed up when Josephine and Felicia reentered the room.  Cries of ‘Papa’ were his only warning before she launched herself at him and proceeded to give him a complete rundown of every moment they had been apart, much to the women’s amusement.

In what seemed like no time Anders found himself settled into a warm room within the main keep and promises from Josephine to show him where the healer’s tent was in the morning.  Watching Felicia roll around on the bed that was far more comfortable than any he’d seen in years, Anders dared to hope that his wait for Hawke’s return might be just what he needed to find a new start in this changed world.

 

 

**Florence & The Machine – Shake It Out**

Fenris breathed a sigh of relief as the towers of Skyhold finally came into view.  They had been traveling with a group of merchants, mages and Templars, or at least former Templars, should their leader be believed, for the better part of the last four days.  Ever since he’d been forced back onto the roads by the emergence of one of the green rifts that he had heard so much about.  Thankfully they had been far enough away to avoid drawing the attention of the demons that infested it, but still far too close for Fenris’s comfort levels.

Still, after the incident with the Templars, he had been hesitant to move closer when he’d first seen the line of people, interspersed here and there by wagons and single riders.  He was certain that the road that they were on was the one that led to Skyhold, and according to his contacts in Halamshiral there was only one way to get there. 

After originally waiting for the group to move past where he and Amelia were camped, Fenris quickly found himself outpacing the wagons once they reached the mountains proper.  When he finally decided that there was no distinct threat to prevent them from joining with the caravan, Fenris had been surprised to find mages and Templars working side by side rather than at arms, and he had quickly learned that the Inquisition was happy to accept recruits from either side of the war as long as they swore their fealty to the Inquisition rather than the Chanty or the Circle. 

As Fenris had listened to talks around the campfire at night he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Anders had originally been hoping to accomplish with his blasphemous actions against the Chantry.  And while he wasn’t yet willing to give the abomination forgiveness, the things he had seen on this journey did at least force Fenris to admit that the mage’s complaints might have had some merit.

Having to dodge around a wagon that had stopped suddenly, Fenris was torn from his thoughts only to realize that they had entered the shadow of the fortress.  Feeling Amelia shift against him Fenris tightened his hold on her hands as she lifted her sleepy head from his, her legs stretching against his shoulder.  “We’z ‘der, Daddy?”

“We are, mellitus.”

“Mama?”

“We shall look for her right away,” Fenris assured her as he moved quickly through the line of backed up wagons, slipping into cracks too small for mounted riders until he found himself stepping through the enormous front gates.  Several soldiers in Inquisition uniforms were directing traffic and he wasted no time in asking one of them about Hawke.  Receiving only a confused look in response he moved on to Varric’s name and got a laugh as the soldier pointed him up the flights of stairs to the main hall. 

“You’ll want to speak to Madame Montilyet,” the soldier added as Fenris hurried towards the stairs.

“Wan’ down, Daddy…down,” Amelia cried, obviously feeling some of Fenris’s excitement at having finally reached their destination.  And as soon as he reached the top of the stairs he slid her from his shoulders.

 

It happened in the blink of an eye, one moment her little hand was tucked firmly in his and the next she was gone.  “Amelia,” Fenris called, spinning on his heel to see his daughter running as fast as her legs could carry her across the courtyard.

_“’lecia,”_ Amelia cried as she ran and for a moment he thought he understood.  She must have seen Hawke and her companion…except then there were two of them.  Two little carbon copies embracing each other in the middle of the courtyard, their excited chattering ringing out in the late afternoon air.

“Felicia,” a panic stricken voice called out.  A voice that Fenris knew only too well, and in an instant he found himself phased across the courtyard, his hand buried deep in the mage’s chest as Fenris pinned him the wall behind him.

Golden brown eyes widened in surprise and fear met green eyes flashing with fury.  Anders.  In Skyhold. With his daughter.  His _other_ daughter that he hadn’t even been aware existed.  Venhedis, but he wanted to pull the traitor’s rapidly beating heart out of his chest.  Fenris closed his hand minutely against the mage’s heart as he stood on tiptoes to meet him nose to nose with a snarl.  “Why?  Why would you do this to me?”

Fenris watched the mage’s eyes dart from him to the girls behind him and back again, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.  “Fenris.  I didn’t know…”

“Lies,” Fenris snarled again.  “Always lies with you.  Have you been with Hawke all along?  Is this why she left me?  So she could go to _you_?”

_“Daddy!”  “Papa!”_ The cries rang out before Anders could even spew whatever lie Fenris was certain was about to come out of his mouth, Amelia tugging at Fenris’s arm as tears poured down her cheeks, her sister shoving her way between himself and the mage.

“Leave my Papa alone!”

“Move, child,” Fenris growled, his tone easing slightly in deference to his daughter.

“Daddy, no.  No hurtz ‘licia’s daddy,” Amelia cried, her little foot stomping down on Fenris’s.

“Anders!  What in Andraste’s ass?” Fenris heard from behind him, forcing him to wonder just how much attention they were gathering between his attack and the sobbing children.  He didn’t dare take his eyes off the mage to check.  “Do I need to get the guards?”

Clearing his throat Anders moved his hands up placatingly before him.  “No Darren, no guards.  Fenris and I are old…friends.  It’s just a misunderstanding, isn’t it Fenris?”

“What misunderstanding?” Fenris hissed.  “That you and Hawke conspired to keep my children from me?  That my children would call you, an _abomination_ , father rather than me?”

Fenris watched as understanding along with something far too close to pity flashed through the mage’s eyes.  “Fenris, no.  I didn’t…that is, I haven’t seen Hawke since that day…since the battle for Kirkwall.”

“Liar,” Fenris growled, his hand tightening again on Ander’s heart and dragging a moan of pain out of the mage even as he caught movement in his periphery vision.

“Daddy pwease…” Amelia begged, sniffling as she tugged at his free hand.

Of course, such an easy way to prove the mage was lying…and then he’d tear out his dirty, filthy heart like he should have done when the man had been begging for it on the Chantry steps.  Taking a deep breath, Fenris forced a sense of calm into his voice.  “Amelia, do you know who this is?”

Fenris hated that his daughter, kaffas, both his daughters were staring at him as though he were the monster.  Shaking her head violently, Amelia sighed so heavily her entire body shook from it.  “No, Daddy.”

“Pwease don’ hurtz, Papa,” his other daughter begged, adding her grip to her sister’s against his hand.  “Pwease…”

“So you’ve never met him before, mellitus?”

“No, Daddy, no.”

Reluctantly, Fenris pulled his hand from Anders chest, flexing and clenching his hand several times as he watched the mage crumble to the ground before him, clutching his own chest.  “You have two minutes to explain.”

Rather than make any attempt however, Anders just gathered up Amelia’s sister, running a shaking hand over the back of her head as the girl sobbed into his throat.  Looking past Fenris, Anders waved his free hand toward the crowd that had gathered behind them, motioning them to move on before wrapping it tightly around the child.

The tugging on his own hand had Fenris looking down.  “Daddy, why you’z make ‘licia cry?”

Kneeling so he could keep an eye on both his daughters and the mage, Fenris pulled Amelia into his arms.  “’Licia is your sister, filia mea?”

Amelia just sniffled against his skin and nodded, her entire body shaking.

“Her name is Felicia,” the mage finally said, laying a soft kiss to the top of the girl’s head.  “And I had no idea until this moment that she even had a sister.”

“Then Hawke…” Fenris growled.

“Has apparently seen fit to surprise us both,” Anders interrupted with a pointed look down at the two girls who were watching them intently.

“Mama?” Amelia whispered hopefully, and Fenris felt some of his anger melt at the tender way that Anders looked at his daughter.

“I’m sorry little one, she isn’t here right now,” Anders admitted, then looked up to Fenris.  “But she’ll be back.  She’s on a mission with the Inquisitor.”

“How long?”

“If you can get that out of someone you’re a better man than me,” Anders admitted, using the wall to push himself to his feet while not letting go of Felicia.  “What do you say we go find you two a room and then we can work on introductions?”

Nodding his head in agreement Fenris found himself following the mage into the keep, his mind still spinning over the fact that he apparently had not one but two daughters.  Daughters that Hawke had deemed it better to split up rather than send both to him.  And trusted one to the abomination of all people. 

Which brought to mind only more questions.  Namely, where had the abomination’s demon been while Fenris had stood with his fist buried in the mage’s chest and why hadn’t it attempted to stop him?

 


	6. Some Losses Are Too Big For Words

**Taylor Swift – Wildest Dreams**

Fenris had been in Skyhold for almost three weeks when word that the Inquisitor’s party had been seen worked its way through the fortress with the speed of a winter storm.  Watching as the girls played a spirited game of tag with a couple of other children he couldn’t quite shake the combination of excitement and fear that rushed through him.  Because as good as it would be to see Hawke again, he couldn’t help but worry that she would insist on taking the girls away again.

It was a concern he knew the ma… _Anders_ …shared, because they had actually discussed it.  Fenris chuffed at the thought of just how many discussions had actually been shared between the pair of them since that first disastrous meeting in the courtyard.  Surprisingly, without his spirit riding him, something that had taken Fenris some time to accept as the truth, Anders was almost pleasant to be around.  Add to that the fact that while Felicia was slowly warming to Fenris she still refused to have anything to do with him unless Anders was present. 

The fact that Amelia showed no such hesitation and had begun to refer to Anders as ‘Papa’ a few short days ago absolutely did not cause a pang of jealousy in Fenris.  Not that it would matter now, he thought bitterly.  Anders had hopes that Hawke could be convinced to let the pair of them continue to play a part in the girl’s upbringing, but the mage had always had a soft heart.  For his part, Fenris was more practical and he doubted that whatever reasons had convinced Hawke to leave in the first place had changed enough to suddenly want the two of them near her.

Raising a hand to the Chantry sister who was currently watching over the children, Fenris motioned towards the door, only waiting for her short nod before heading off towards the healer’s tent where he knew Anders would be this time of day.  Even if convincing Hawke was a longshot, he knew the odds would improve if he and Anders presented a united front. 

His sharp bark of laughter startled two birds into flight and the mage that was currently on his way up the stairs.  “Fenris?” Anders asked cautiously, his steps slowing as he drew near.

“Just acknowledging the irony in the girls being able to accomplish in only a few weeks what Hawke couldn’t in seven years,” Fenris admitted.

Anders cocked his head to the right, regarding Fenris thoughtfully but didn’t question him further.  “I take it you heard the news.”

Fenris nodded.  “I thought perhaps we should meet her together with the girls.”

“Master Dennet has promised to send one of his boys to let me know when they are approaching the bridge,” Anders said as he moved past Fenris, headed up the steps.  “We should have time to clean up the girls first.”

“They’re with the Chantry Sisters in the garden,” Fenris informed him, only the fact that he was right on Anders’ heels cluing him in to the slight hitch in the mage’s steps.  “Anders?”

“It’s nothing.  Let’s get the girls.”

 

Fenris was still puzzling over the tone in Anders voice two hours later as the pair of them attempted to keep the girls from undoing all of their hard work in getting them presentable for their mother.  He supposed that the Sisters had more cause than any others in Skyhold to hold animosity for Anders, but he had seen no sign of it when the girls had run to Anders, their excited cries echoing through the garden.  Still, if the women had said something to Anders it would hardly due to entrust their children to them.

“Amelia, please don’t poke at your sister, and Felicia, no tugging your sister’s braids,” Anders said patiently as he regarded the children’s reflection in the mirror he was currently using to shave.

“Anders…” Fenris began, only to be interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

Taking Anders arched brow as permission to answer it, Fenris opened the door expecting to see a stable hand only to find himself face to face with a very familiar dwarf.  “Varric?”

“Shit,” Anders cried, prompting Fenris to turn just in time to feel the push of magic as Anders healed the nick he’d taken out of his jaw. 

A chorus of ‘Papa’ had the mage turning a rather delightful shade of red, a fact that he hid by wiping his face clear of water before hurrying towards Fenris with a frown.  “Fenris, don’t just leave him standing in the hall.  And Varric, it’s good to see you.”

Varric rubbed at his jaw nervously.  “You too Blondie, Broody.  Gotta admit I was surprised to find out you two had showed up.”

“Really?  Because I’m half convinced it was Hawke’s plan all along,” Anders chuckled, tugging Varric into the room.  “Speaking of Marian, where is she?”

Varrric sighed heavily, his hand moving to rub anxiously at his neck before patting at Bianca’s stock.  “Yeah, about that…”

A cold shiver passed through Fenris’s body, a certainty that nothing good was going to come of whatever Varric said next.  “Dwarf…”

Varric looked past both men, his attention focusing in on the two girls sitting by the fire, the open picture book on the ground between them forgotten as they stared up at him.  “Maker, they look just like her.”

Anders reached past Fenris to close the open door, his heavy sigh reaching Fenris only a moment before the mage asked, “Varric, where…is…Hawke?”

Varric spun to face the two men once again, his eyes haunted.  “We were at Adamant.  The Inquisitor had finally talked some sense into the Grey Warden Commander and we were chasing down Corypheus’ agent, Erimond, when that blasted dragon appeared.  The Inquisitor, the Seeker, Sparkler, Hawke and I, along with Warden Stroud, ended up in the fade…” Varric’s voice petered off, his expression horrified as he looked straight at Anders.  “Don’t know how you do it Blondie, once was more than enough for me.”

“Varric,” Fenris growled, “Hawke?”

“Sorry,” Varric muttered with a shake of his head.  “There was a demon…the mother of all demons actually and the rift was closing.  I tried to stay with her…I swear I tried, the Seeker pulled me back through and then…”

_“You left her in the fade?”_ Fenris roared, his markings lighting the room up brighter than daylight as he threw himself at the rogue only to be tackled to the bed by Anders, the mage’s face so close to him he could feel his breath against his cheek as he shook him hard.

“Fenris, no.  The girls.  You can’t…think of them,” Anders hissed in his ear, repeating the same words over and over until Fenris finally sagged against the bed.

Even then it took Fenris a minute to hear Varric’s non-stop repeated apology over the roaring of his own blood in his ears.  “I’m sorry…so fucking sorry…I would have stayed…I wanted to stay…”

He watched as Anders went to the broken man, wrapping his hands around Varric’s shoulders and squeezing.  “It’s not your fault,” Anders managed to get out, his voice hoarse.  “You know how Hawke is, if she stayed she did it so that you could go on.”

“Papa?”

All three men’s eyes turned toward the pair that now stood before the fire, their arms around each other.  Taking a single step forward Amelia whispered, “Where’z Mama, Papa?”

“Oh baby,” Anders whispered, stumbling the couple of steps towards the girls before dropping to his knees.  “Mama’s not coming home.”

“Wantz Mama, Papa,” Felicia whispered from behind her sister, her tone pleading.

“Awww, Princess, I know you do.  And you know that if she could be here she would be.  But she…she died helping Varric and the Inquisitor come home.”

“Nooooo…”

The cry had barely fallen from Amelia’s lips, Fenris springing from the bed to go comfort his daughters when he felt the familiar tug of the fade through his markings and the room was engulfed in rain.  “Mage,” Fenris growled, closing the distance between them and grabbing Anders by the shoulder.

It was only when Anders looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and pride that Fenris realized the truth, both men’s attention turning back to Amelia even as Anders reached for the girl, electricity leaping from her skin to ground in Ander’s hand.

Dropping to his own knees Fenris couldn’t hear the words Anders was soothingly whispering to his daughter as he held her tight, his hand running soothing tracks up and down her spine.  He knew he should say something, certainly the moment called for him saying something, but he couldn’t for the life of him force his brain to form words even if he could trust his mouth to speak them.

Then it became a moot point as Felicia threw herself into his arms, her little body soaking wet and shaking so hard Fenris feared for her.  Wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he dared, Fenris cradled the back of her small head in his palm.  “Daddy, I wantz Mama,” Felicia sobbed into his neck, her tears soaking him anew as the storm called by Amelia faded.

“I know, mellitus,” he choked out, hating that this of all things was what would push her to finally call him father.  “Shhhhh, filia mea.  It will be alright.”

Lifting his head to find Anders staring at him, his own pain and helplessness reflected in those golden eyes wet with unshed tears, Fenris could only pray he wasn’t lying.


	7. Life Goes On

**Rob Thomas – Little Wonders**

Anders tucked the girls into the bed they now shared and made sure to leave the door to the sitting room open enough that he would hear it if either of them cried out during the night.  Thankfully by now, six months after learning that Hawke given her life to save the Inquisitor, it was a rare occurrence.  But both girls had been questioning him tonight about how much longer Fenris would be gone and they had both had nightmares for the first week after he’d left with the Inquisitor for the Arbor Wilds.

It would be easier to offer reassurances to the girls if he didn’t share some of their concerns.  After all, he had spent enough time in battle with the warrior to know that he had a tendency to lead the pack and to forget that even with his markings he wasn’t invincible.  Although Anders was fairly certain that the soldiers who Cullen had assigned to train under Fenris would disagree with him on that point, especially the ones who rotated through Anders’s healing tent with a variety of minor injuries that they always attributed to ‘that blasted elf that moves faster than light’.

Teasing Fenris about his recruits’ comments had become a source of amusement for Anders, one that even the prickly elf had begun to laugh about as time went on and he realized that Anders was poking fun at the situation rather than at Fenris himself.  Although, if pressed, Anders would have to admit that Fenris had become much less prickly in general as the months had passed.

Their current accommodations were proof of that.  Because that first night, after the girls had fallen into troubled sleep in their laps and they realized that Amelia’s magic had managed to soak just about every dry inch of the room, they had ended up back in Anders and Felicia’s room for the night.  He still wasn’t certain Fenris actually slept at all that night, but he was positive the elf had been in the same stiff position on the floor when Anders awoke. 

It was when Fenris tried to convince Amelia to go back to their own room that the problems had started.  Because whether Amelia could feel Fenris’s discomfort with her newly discovered mage status, and to give the elf credit he had never even glanced at his daughter with anything other than complete adoration, or perhaps just the loss of Hawke making her want to be near to her sister, the pair had refused to be separated. 

And so, after a few days of tense discussions between them, once Fenris accepted that remaining in Skyhold was the best thing for not only Amelia but also for Anders, giving them the freedom to practice as mages without scorn or fear, their next step had been to seek out Josephine and request larger quarters.  Thankfully, she had been able to secure them a small suite, with a bedroom large enough for the girls to share and enough space in the sitting room to tuck a bed away behind a screen.

Fenris had stubbornly insisted that he was fine sleeping on a bedroll beside the fire right up until his duties with the Inquisition started.  It would seem that daily training lessons with several dozen of the Inquisition’s fittest soldiers was slightly harder on the elf than he wanted to admit, and when Anders had found him still laying on the ground one morning long after he would normally have been in the training ring, he had insisted the stubborn elf let him heal his punished muscles.  Anders had also insisted that they share the bed from that point on, though Anders was careful to cling to his own side of it as he had learned to appreciate his heart right where it was.

With a yawn, Anders headed for the screen, kicking off his boots with a pleased sigh before shedding his robes and reaching for the tunic he usually slept in.  As he crawled into bed he couldn’t help thinking that it seemed much colder without Fenris in it.   

 

**John Rzeznik – I’m Still Here**

It was only a couple of days later that Anders found himself in the Chantry garden picking up the girls.  It, along with the moments in the morning when he dropped them off, constituted the worst parts of Anders’s day.  They were also the only points in the day that he even felt Justice think about saying something, though to date the spirit had resisted the urge and simply disappeared again into the corner he’d taken to hiding in.  As disrespectful as it felt to admit, Anders found the spirit’s lack of interest a relief, leaving him to focus all of his attention on healing his patients during the day and on his girls at night.

Ignoring the disapproving eye of Mother Giselle, who had been told by the Inquisitor herself to avoid speaking with Anders if she couldn’t say anything polite, Anders dropped to his knees in the dirt as he heard the familiar sound of his girls calling out, “Papa.”

Grunting as they both hit him in a full out run he hugged them tightly to him.  “How have my Princesses been today?”

“We’z good, Papa.  ‘Melia made it snow for me,” Felicia gushed excitedly, her little hands framing his cheeks.

“Amelia, what did I say about practicing magic around the Sisters?”

“Sorry, Papa,” Amelia pouted.  “But ‘lecia was sad ‘bout Daddy bein’ gones and…”

“Shhh, little one, I understand,” Anders interrupted his daughter, knowing that left to her own devices she would regale him with every movement that had occurred during his absence.

Untangling little arms from around his neck, Anders stood.  “I heard today that there are kittens down in the barn.  Do you think…”

“Kittens!  Wanna sees kittens, Papa,” both girls cried at once, drawing a smile to Anders face as he reached out his hands and felt little ones tucked into them.  They had just turned towards the door when a loud bang had him spinning around, his staff freed in an instant as he placed himself in front of the girls.

His eyes scanning for a potential threat, he was surprised instead to see that it had been the storage room door at the back of the garden that had been thrown open only to have the Inquisitor and her party come tumbling out the door.  How in Andraste’s sweet name had they all ended up there when Josie had just told him two days ago the final assault should be coordinated shortly.  And more importantly, Anders decided with a frown, where in the Maker’s grace was Fenris?  Unless…

No.  No, no, no.  This could not be happening.  He did _not_ entrust the blighted elf to the Inquisitor only to lose him too.  Anders had taken two steps toward the party that had yet to notice him when he felt his robes being tugged.

“Papa?” He heard the tears in the girls’ voices even before he looked down to find them regarding the Inquisitor quite closely.

Fuck.  How could he have forgotten the girls were even there?  Drawing in a deep breath he forced a smile to his face that he certainly didn’t feel.  “I’m sure he’s fine girls.  I’m not certain why the Inquisitor is back without him but if you stay here for a moment…”

“Noooo, Papa.  Comes wit’ youz…pwease?”

It was the unshed tears he saw in the girls’ eyes rather than their words that swayed him and Anders found himself scooping both girls up and meeting the Inquisitor halfway across the garden.  “Where is he?”

“Now Blondie, don’t go getting…”

“I just watched you walk out of a sealed room without the one man I trusted you to bring home with you…don’t tell me how to act,” Anders hissed, forcing himself to draw a calming breath only when both girls established a stranglehold on his neck, their heads tucked tightly against him.  “Now, where is he, Inquisitor?”

Anders read sympathy in the Inquisitor’s eyes as she looked from Felicia to Amelia and back again and Anders could have sworn his knees were going to buckle.  He barely recognized the voice that spoke as being his own as he woodenly asked, “Please, don’t tell me…”

The Inquisitor reached for him, anchoring her hand under his elbow as she shook her head negatively.  “No, he was fine the last we saw of him.  We were forced into the inner temple by Corypheus’ soldiers.  Bull and Fenris volunteered to guard the doors.”

“So you don’t know…”

“No, but he and Bull are a formidable force.”

 “Why didn’t you go back for them?  How could you have just left them?”

“Corypheus destroyed the only way back.  Thankfully Morrigan was able to activate one of the eluvians and return us to Skyhold.  I swear Anders, I’ll have Leliana on it as soon as I can get to my desk.  By now Cullen will have realized that we’re gone, I need to get word to him.  When I know something, you’ll know something.”  Somehow he found the Inquisitor’s assurances less than comforting.

“Come on, Blondie.  Let me get you and the girls back to your room and I’ll tell you all about it,” Varric said gently, his hand replacing the Inquisitor’s at Anders’ elbow.

Tightening his hold on his girls, their tears now soaking the front of his robes, Anders allowed Varric to lead him from the courtyard.

 

**Counting Crows – Colorblind**

“Papa, papa look.”

Anders grinned and did as commanded, looking over to where Dorian and Amelia were sitting next to the fire, both of them balancing balls of flame on their palms.  The other mage had shown up not long after Varric had left, bearing bowls of thick stew and fresh bread and had proceeded to entertain both girls with his magic as they ate.

“She is rather accomplished for one so young,” Dorian grinned, extinguishing his own flame and calling forth a ball of ice instead.

Amelia pouted, her own flame winking out of existence easily enough but the ice refused to form.  “I wantz ice.”

Dorian laughed, dismissing his ice to cradle one of her hands in his.  “Close your eyes and picture it in your mind.  Remember how cold the snow is, how slippery the ice feels under your feet.  See it shining in the sun and melting just slightly in your palm…there…yes…”

The tiniest little chip of ice formed in her palm, Amelia’s eyes flying open at the feel of it and then it was gone.  “I dids it Papa, I dids it.”

“Indeed you did, excellent job Amelia.  But now I think it’s time for you to thank Messere Pavus so you and Felicia can go to bed.”

“T’ank yous, Messere,” both girls called out, throwing their arms around their guest and hugging him tightly much to the mage’s confusion before heading off toward their room.

Anders stood, reaching out a hand to help Dorian up off the floor.  “Thank you for this.  I’m not certain I could have distracted them from Fenris’s absence quite so effectively.”

Dorian cleared his throat nervously, as if unaccustomed to honest thanks.  “My motives may not have been entirely altruistic.  I admit to being concerned about Bull also and the girls provided a lovely distraction.  For her age Amelia truly is skilled.”

Anders grinned.  “Well, her mother was one of the best mages I’ve ever known.”

“Ah, yes, Hawke.  I don’t believe I ever told you how very sorry I was for your loss.  She was indeed a powerful mage.  Amelia may very well follow in her mother’s footsteps favoring fire.”

“I didn’t think mages in Tevinter specialized.”

Dorian shrugged, wincing slightly at the motion.  “The Altus class certainly trains in all disciplines, but for the Laetans it depends on how much money their parents have.  Some of the lesser circles stress a specialization over broader training.”

Motioning toward the shoulder Dorian had favored, Anders asked, “May I?”

Taking Dorian’s quick nod as permission Anders laid his hand on the mage’s shoulder and sent a push of magic through it, quickly finding only pulled muscles and tension.  “If you give me a moment to tuck the girls in,  I’ll take care of that for you.”

Dorian chuckled.  “Never off duty I see.”

Anders smiled and ducked into the girls room, finding them already curled up together in the middle of the bed, sound asleep.  Pressing a kiss to each forehead, he tucked the blankets around them and returned find Dorian slumped in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, his head resting against the side of the chair.  For a moment Anders thought Dorian to be sleeping but when he drew closer it became obvious the mage was deep in thought.  “Everything alright?”

Dorian startled, his hand instinctive reaching for the staff that was no longer strapped to him before realizing where he was and settling back down.  “Oh, yes.  Apologies, it has been a long day and while I know Bull remaining behind was the right decision it was…difficult.”

“It’s never easy to leave behind a comrade,” Anders commiserated as he closed the distance between himself and Dorian to find the mage staring at him in a way that made Anders feel like he’d missed part of the picture.

Reaching out for Dorian’s wounded shoulder he sent a pulse of healing magic through it, noting again just how tense the mage was.  He remembered Hawke getting that way too when she’d pushed her magic too hard for too long, usually because Fenris had decided to play human shield again…oh.  Oh.  “Andraste’s knickerweasels, you’re in love with him aren’t you?”

Dorian’s look would have frozen Anders solid if he hadn’t already been blushing.   “Sorry, it’s just that he’s a Qunari and you’re from Tevinter.”

“Yes, well, I will admit it was rather…unexpected,” Dorian finally confessed, closing his eyes and sighing as Anders finished healing the pulled muscles and switched to pushing warm heat through both shoulders.  “Kaffas, that feels good.”

The pair were silent for several long minutes, Anders using the time to go ahead and heal a plethora of small nicks and bruises Dorian had gained in battle.  He had to admit that part of him was jealous that Dorian had been able to be there today while he had been left behind, even if he and Fenris had agreed that it was best for one of them to stay with the girls. 

When he could find no more injuries to treat Anders moved to stand in front of Dorian’s chair so he could see the mage’s face when he asked, “Do you really believe that they’re alright?”

Dorian’s smile was a shade too quick and slight to be reassuring.  “I think that if I had to leave Bull with anyone in the Inquisition there is no one outside the Chargers that I would trust more than Fenris,” Dorian finally said, then scowled and bit his bottom lip before adding, “Do not, of course, tell him I said that.  I quite prefer my heart where it is thank you.”

Anders laughed and shook his head.  “Was it you being a mage or being a ‘Vint that pissed him off?”

“Oh, he needs a _reason_ does he?” Dorian chuckled as he stood and reached for his staff. 

Anders followed along behind him as Dorian headed to the door, having to stop suddenly when Dorian turned and regarded him thoughtfully.  As the mage’s eyes softened and his smile seemed to brighten, leaving Anders with the feeling he was seeing a side of Dorian most people didn’t.  “I trust that Evie will bring both our men home where they belong.”

It took Anders a moment to connect Evie as being the Inquisitor, and by the time he moved past that comment to the rest of what Dorian had said the man was already stepping through the door.  Shit.  It wouldn’t do for Dorian to get the wrong idea.  Tipping his head out the door Anders called out, “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood, Fenris isn’t mine.”

Dorian spun around, walking backwards as he laughed deeply.  “I see, still in denial then?”

“What?”

Turning back the other way Dorian just raised his hand in farewell.  “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

Anders shook his head slowly as he let the door drop closed behind him.  He supposed he couldn’t blame Dorian for thinking he and Fenris were together.  After all, they had been living as a family for the past six months, and certainly finding out that Fenris had been left behind had been a shock, but that didn’t mean…

Suddenly Anders was struck with an image of Fenris as he’d ridden off with the Inquisitor’s party, his green cloak thrown back so his white hair shined as bright as the snow in the early morning sun.  The elf had been grinning down at the girls and Anders remembered having trouble catching his breath for a moment. 

And now, the thought of never seeing that smile again, of never getting to tease Fenris about his recruits or sit before the fire at night and listen to him telling the girls a story, that sinful voice that Anders swore he could listen to for…shit.

Reaching for the edge of the bed Anders fell more than sat down on it, his head leaning against one of the thick wood columns.  How could he have been so stupid, and why didn’t he realize it before? 

Because Dorian was right, at some point he’d gone and done the one thing guaranteed to bring his little family tumbling down…he’d fallen in love with Fenris.

 


	8. Homeward Bound

**Matchbox Twenty – Parade**

“We’re not gonna get there any quicker by killing your mount.”

Fenris snarled at The Iron Bull’s words even though he knew they were true.  They had covered more ground in the past two days than most groups covered in twice that time, and if he listened to Bull he had no doubt they would see the towers of Skyhold tomorrow.

It was just that ever since he and Bull had gotten word from Leliana that Corypheus had taken advantage of the main troops being a week away from Skyhold to launch his final attack, Fenris had had this pit in the bottom of his stomach that no amount of rational thought could dislodge.  Because he knew that the battle was over already, knew that Corypheus was dead and that while they had lost more men than anyone wanted to, Anders was alive.  The girls were alive.

And still the back of his neck tingled, and his dreams were full of images of his mage crushed beneath Corypheus’s dragon or run through by one of the Templar Behemoths, those golden eyes of his dull and lifeless as Fenris arrived too late.   Just as he had been with Hawke, always too damned late.

“Fenris,” Bull’s tone had gone beyond lighthearted into serious territory now and with a heavy sigh Fenris reined in his mount, slowing to a walk as he headed closer to the river they had been running next too for most of the day.

Smirking at Bull’s sigh of what he assumed was relief, Fenris dropped from the saddle and quickly tied off his mount where she could graze comfortably.  If it were up to him he’d say they camped cold tonight and got the bare minimum of sleep before starting again but knowing the Qunari he’d insist they actually took time to build a fire and eat food that didn’t require chewing for half the night to make edible.

_He had, of course, been right._  Fenris chuckled to himself an hour later as he sat in front of a roaring fire and accepted the bowl of hot stew Bull had managed to throw together.  Bull arched his brow but otherwise said nothing as he took his own meal and lowered himself to the ground on the other side of the fire.  There was something about the qunari that Fenris found grounding, the huge man providing a comforting presence that persisted even in during battle.

It was one of the things Fenris had learned to like about Bull the more time he spent around him, which admittedly wasn’t much, Fenris thought with another laugh, considering just who the Qunari had chosen as a lover.

“What’s got you so tickled over there?” Bull asked, staring at Fenris over the edge of his bowl.

“Just wondering how a Qunari spy got tangled up with a Tevinter Magister.”

“Altus actually,” Bull said almost under his breath before shrugging.  “Dorian is…Dorian.  And in case you haven’t noticed I’m not really much of a strict follower of the Qun.”

“I had noticed a lack of converting.  Still doesn’t explain how the most feared Qunari on Seheron ended up with a ‘Vint lover.”

Bull sighed heavily.  “Ah, been wondering how much you knew about that.  There were rumors of a ghost wolf that ran with the Fog Warriors for a time.”

“It was my first brush with freedom and I failed miserably,” Fenris admitted, staring into the fire.

“Works like that sometimes.  Dorian, he’s what keeps me from failing,” Bull shrugged, throwing another log onto the fire and watching to make certain it caught before turning his attention back to Fenris.  “But you should know something about that, seems Anders does the same for you.”

Fenris startled.  A fact that disturbed him all the more considering if he’d heard those words only a week ago he’d have laughed instead.  But now, now he just found himself raising wide eyes towards Bull, the qunari’s own expression softening as he read the panic on Fenris’s face.

Wincing slightly, Bull forced a wry grin to his face.  “Sorry, didn’t know it was like that.”

“Neither did I,” Fenris whispered, more to himself than to Bull, a dozen images of the mage flickering through his mind.  Anders, teeth bared as he growled out his spells in battle.  The line of Anders throat as he threw back another lyrium potion, exhausted but overrun with patients in his Darktown clinic.  Anders staring at him so calmly while Fenris had him slammed against the wall of The Herald’s Rest, his hand clenched tightly around the mage’s heart.  Anders sitting before the fireplace, eyes wet with unshed tears, admitting that Justice had faded almost entirely from his senses.  Anders laughing with Amelia as she conjured flame again and again, Felicia hanging from his back and laughing with them.  Anders strawberry blond hair shining in the sun, his eyes sober despite his smile the day Fenris left Skyhold for the Arbor Wilds.

Venhedis, he was in love with the man.  How was it that Anders had managed to work his way into Fenris’s heart right alongside the girls?  And perhaps more importantly, why didn’t it scare the shit out of him?

 

 

**Allison Crowe – Hallelujah**

Anders was in the healer’s tent the next morning bandaging the hip of one of the kitchen staff.  The poor girl had misjudged where the table was when she pulled a pot of boiling water off the stove and her cries had been heard even from the far end of the fortress.  He had already healed the worst of the wounds, working slowly from the inside out so that she would have minimal permanent damage, but the skin was still fresh and using a salve coated bandage was the best way to decrease any further chance of scarring.

Helping the woman to her feet he whispered, “Come see me in two days and we’ll take that off.”

“Yes, Healer,” she assured him with a grin, slipping past Anders towards the door as he screwed the lid back on the salve before closing his eyes to enjoy the few seconds of silence.

In a moment he’d have to head over to the tents they’d set up to care for those wounded in the battle with Corypheus, and Maker but _that_ had been a horrific day.  But for now, things were quiet and expected to remain that way until the bulk of the troops got back in the next week or so.  Until _Fenris_ got back.

Sighing softly, Anders heard the soft sound of the tent flaps shifting.  Realizing his impromptu break was over, he put a smile on his face. “So, how can I help…” he broke off with a small cry when he realized just who it was standing in his doorway.

His eyes took in everything, every strand of white hair sticking up like a crown, every tired line on the elf’s face, the way his ears twitched as though he wasn’t certain of his greeting even as he tugged at his gauntlets and threw them onto the cot next to him.  Swallowing hard, Anders whispered, “Fenris?”

“Mage,” Fenris purred in response, and then, as if the one word was enough to break the spell he was striding across the room, his eyes searching Anders the same way he had just been searched, not stopping until he was close enough to touch.

Anders was certain he saw a slight sigh fall from Fenris’s lips as the elf rose onto his toes.  In the blink of an eye he was tugged up against the warrior, one strong hand wrapping tightly around his waist and the other sliding through his hair as Fenris tugged his head down.

“Anders,” Fenris whispered against his lips, both a question and a promise as his lips brushed gently against Ander’s own.

Tears sprang to his eyes unbidden, his arms rising of their own accord to curl around Fenris’s back, hands gripping his shoulders tightly as he returned the kiss with a promise of his own.  “Fenris.”

The word was licked from his mouth as Fenris deepened the kiss, their tongues tangling, learning the taste of each other as Fenris pulled him impossibly closer.  Lyrium, Fenris tasted like lyrium and nutmeg and apples, ripe and fresh from the tree and Anders didn’t think he’d ever get enough of it.  When Fenris pulled back Anders hardly recognized the little mew of discontent as being his own even though it drew a little laugh from Fenris as the elf trailed kisses across his jaw and down his neck.

Tipping his head back with a low groan Anders’s fingers clenched even harder at Fenris’s shoulders when the elf nipped at his collarbone then laved at the bruised skin as he demanded, “When, when did you know?”

“When…” Anders started, only to break off with a low groan as Fenris ran his tongue up the length of his neck to nip at his earlobes.  “Can’t think…”

Fenris purred at that, the sound coming from deep in his chest and echoing through to Anders’ own, drawing a laugh from the mage that was broken off when Fenris nipped harder at his ear.  “Tell me…”

“When you didn’t come back with the Inquisitor,” Anders shouted out in a rush, Fenris’s bark of laughter sending a chill down his spine.  “You?”

“Last night…talking to…The Iron Bull.  Should have…known…sooner…” Fenris told him, stopping every few words to sprinkle kisses across Anders jaw again until he found his way back to his lips.

Then there was no more talking needed as Anders finally relaxed into Fenris’s arms.  The realization that Fenris was actually here, safe, warm, tasting of sin, enough to encourage Anders to release his death grip on his shoulders and let his hand trail up the back of Fenris’s neck.  Anders felt the shiver course through the elf, the smile form against his lips, the little growl in Fenris’s throat and couldn’t resist doing it again.

“Mage…” Fenris rumbled fiercely, only to ruin the effect a moment later with a low moan as Anders stroked his finger down the length of his ear.  

Anders thought that sound was one he could get addicted to, one he wanted to hear again as he took his turn learning his lover’s flesh, teeth and lips and tongue tracing a path across Fenris’s jaw until he could take one long lick up the edge of his ear, his teeth nipping gently at the tip.  And if Fenris’s moan was addictive, the groan that was pulled from the elf was positively sinful and had Anders cock twitching hard against his leathers.  Intent on hearing it again he had barely flicked his tongue over the tip when Fenris growled and shoved him back, the table behind him slamming against the wall of the tent and threatening to cave the whole thing in on them.

Both men froze, breaths held for long seconds as the tent shifted around them before finally settling.  Daring to breathe, golden eyes met green and then they were both laughing, Fenris’s head shaking softly.  “I swear, Anders, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Me?  But you’re the one that…”

“Hush, Mage,” Fenris grumbled, such affection is his expression that Anders found himself unable to protest.  With a grin, Fenris shifted his grip, cupping Ander’s cheek and running his thumb over his lips.  “If I’d known a kiss would shut you up I’d have tried it sooner.”

“Liar…”

Fenris shifted onto his toes again and proved his point, kissing Anders until he had forgotten what they were discussing in the first place before dropping back to his heels with a grin.  “Come, I find I want to see our girls and then, later, perhaps I can find some other things that will silence my mage…”

_His mage._   Anders thought he could get used to that, give or take a lifetime.  He opened his mouth to tell Fenris just that only to feel the elf’s hand slide down his arm, his fingers lacing tightly with Anders own.  As he fell into step next to the elf Anders decided that perhaps Fenris already knew.


	9. So This Is What Contentment Looks Like

5 years later

**The Naked and Famous – Young Blood**

Anders knew where he was immediately, something that obviously couldn’t be said for the scowling elf standing in front of him.  “Anders?”

Anders wondered if he would have always noted the tremor of fear that hid behind Fenris’s fiercely growled word.  Probably not in the days when Justice had still been so present in his mind, the spirit’s obsession with justice tinting every conversation that flowed through Anders ears.  But it had been years since that day, years since Anders would have feared to reach for Fenris’s hand the way he did now, linking their fingers as he whispered, “Not sure how but we’re in the fade.”

Fenris’s scowl only deepened, his free hand reaching to make certain his sword was firmly strapped to his back.  “The fade…”

Fenris broke off as the sound of familiar laughter washed over the pair of them, both he and Anders breaking into a run as they hurried towards the sound only to be drawn up short as they found both their daughters chasing each other through a field of wildflowers, crowns of flowers perched on their heads.

Anders frowned as he looked from Fenris to Felicia, neither of them should be here, neither of them _belonged_ here.  _Unless, they were demons_ , his mind helpfully provided, making Anders regard the two even more critically.  It was possible of course, but to what effect?  What could a demon possibly gain…

“Papa,” the girls cried in unison, noticing him for the first time and throwing themselves at him.

He laughed as he hugged them tightly before setting them away from him sternly.  “You girls shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, papa,” Felicia laughed, rolling her eyes at him in a way that made her seem nineteen instead of nine.

“I watch out for her, Papa,” Amelia told him serious. 

“You’ve done this before?” Fenris asked, disapproval evident in his tone.

It was Amelia’s turn to roll her eyes and laugh.  “Only since I was four, Daddy.”

“Mage?”

Anders sighed and squeezed Amelia’s shoulder to keep her from answering for him.  “You know that mages walk the fade, Fenris.  It’s you and Felicia that don’t belong here.”

Fenris frowned, “But certainly she’s too young.”

The brow that Amelia arched at Fenris reminded Anders so much of Hawke that he had to hide his bark of laughter behind a cough.  “Daddy, I’m gonna go through my harrowing next year.  I’m not a baby anymore.”

Fenris looked helplessly from Amelia to Anders and back again before Anders finally took pity on him and ruffled Amelia’s hair.  “How ‘bout you let your dad and I pretend you still need us for just awhile longer huh?”

But it was Felicia who threw herself into Fenris’s arms.  “Oh Daddy, we’ll always need you.”

Anders smiled as Amelia joined her sister, some of Fenris’s shock fading with both girls hugging him tightly.

“What I still don’t understand,” Anders muttered, “is what you two are doing here.”

 

 

**Dave Matthews Band – Grey Street**

“I brought them,” the voice sounded so familiar, like someone from a dream he’d had once but couldn’t remember.  Looking towards where it came from he found a hooded figure walking towards the girls and in the blink of an eye he had placed himself between the stranger and his girls.

“Papa, it’s ok…” Amelia whispered.

 “No, stay back,” Anders cried, waving them back as he kept his eye on the stranger, his hand sliding his staff from its sheath as he caught Fenris approaching, weapon already in hand.

“You will not have them,” Fenris rumbled, placing himself not only in front of the children but Anders also, a move that both warmed and annoyed the mage.

Rather than cowering the figure before them just laughed, a bright tinkling noise so rarely heard in the fade.  “Look at you two.  I had hoped but…” the figure broke off, empty hands rising slowly to shove back their heavy cowl.

“Mama!” The girls cried, pushing past Anders only to be snagged around the waist by Fenris.

“No,” the elf commanded with a shake of his head.  “You will not have my children demon.”

She looked the same was all Anders could think.  Just the same as she had all those years ago when her battle with Meredith had ended with the Knight Commander turning into a block of red lyrium.  Except back then her expression had held so much sorrow as she told him to go, to walk away from Kirkwall and everyone who mattered to him and never look back and now…now she was practically glowing with love and happiness.  And he knew, just knew that Fenris was wrong.  This was no demon, this was Hawke.

Ignoring the girls’ cries of complaint as Fenris continued to deny them access to their mother, Anders stepped forward.  He might know in his heart that it was her, but he wouldn’t risk his girls on a belief.  Hawke met him halfway, her hand held out to him as if she knew what he was about to do, and then his hand was wrapped around her wrist.

Letting his magic pulse through the woman before him Anders smiled as he felt none of the twisted, sense of wrong that happened whenever he came in contact with a demon.  “Maker, it really is you.”

Hawke smiled back at him.  “It really is.”

“Hawke?” The emotion behind Fenris’s single word raised tears in Anders’ eyes, tears that finally fell as his daughters darted past him to embrace their mother.

“Mama, we’ve missed you.”  “Love you so much, Mama.”  “Why did you go away?” “Can you come back with us?”

Hawke was laughing, tears rolling down her cheeks as she dipped her head to place a kiss on each girl’s head.  “You both have gotten so big,” she whispered, kneeling so she could speak them, her words too soft for Anders to hear.  But whatever it was had both girls alternately crying and laughing too before they all turned their attention to Fenris and Anders.

With a last squeeze for the girls, Hawke stood and closed the distance between herself and Fenris, Anders own eyes tearing up again as he watched the elf’s shoulders fall when Hawke embraced him.  Turning away from a moment that seemed too personal for even him to be witnessing, Anders would have walked away if Fenris hadn’t reached back at just that moment and snagged one of his hands, holding on as though Anders was the anchor he needed to weather this unexpected storm.

And so Anders stayed, stepping closer to the pair and meeting Hawke’s bemused stare when she looked over Fenris’s shoulder to find them joined.  With a sad, little smile she let Fenris go, immediately finding herself sandwiched between both girls again as Fenris took a step back, a little sigh falling as he pressed his body against Anders.

“I’m sure you have questions,” Hawke started, smiling when Anders wrapped his free hand protectively around Fenris’s waist.  “I don’t have long, but I’ve been trying for years to find a way to bring you all to me.  To tell you how much I love all of you and that I’m so very proud of who you’ve become.  I had hopes when I left the girls with each of you, hopes that you would find a way past your differences to become the men I knew my girls needed.”

Hawke broke off, fresh tears falling as she looked down at the girls who at almost ten now bore little resemblance to the babies they had been when she left them.  Anders found he had to swallow past the knot in his throat to whisper, “Hawke…”

She sniffled, then squared her shoulders.  “I just miss them so much.  I wish that things had been different, that I had had a chance…” Hawke broke off, her head tilting as if listening to a voice only she could hear and she smiled softly before leaning down to kiss each of the girls once more.  “I have to go.  Thank you for not saying no…thank you for loving them as much as I do.”

 

**Goo Goo Dolls – All That You Are**

Anders woke with a start, Fenris sitting up next to him only a moment later.  Glancing at each other they sprang from the bed, hurrying through the living area of their small cottage and into the girls’ room.  Though the room was now large enough to allow for separate beds, they found both girls snuggled together in Felicia’s bed, Alicia’s blanket covering the pair to the tips of their noses as they snored gently. 

Brushing the hair back from each girl’s face Anders smiled over at Fenris before straightening and taking Fenris’s hand.  Waiting to speak until they were back in their own room, tucked into their own warm bed, Anders sighed softly as he rolled over on his side to face his lover.  “I wasn’t….I mean I didn’t…Maker, Fenris, I’m _sorry_.”

“Kaffas, what could you have to be sorry for?” Fenris barked, a small frown pulling at his brows.

Anders didn’t have to close his eyes to see Fenris shaking in Hawke’s arms the way he had been only moments ago, didn’t have to imagine the emotions he had felt coming from the pair when his heart was still aching from them.  Because while he may have loved Hawke, he had always known that there was only one of them that _she_ loved.  At least in the only way that mattered.  “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect her.  That I couldn’t save her.  Sorry that I was too late to stop her from going in the damned first place.”

“Hush, Mage,” Fenris chuffed, brushing the back of his fingers across Anders cheeks.

“But you loved her and she loved…”  Anders broke off as Fenris’s fingers shifted to lay across his lips.

“First, you’re more foolish than I thought if you think you could have stopped Hawke from doing anything she set her mind to.  Second, she may have loved me, but she still left.  And third, in case you happen to have missed it, I’m happy with where my life has ended up.”

“Fenris…” Anders whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

Shaking his head softly, Fenris shifted so he was up on one elbow and looked down at Anders with such an expression of love Anders thought his own heart would burst.  “You bring a peace to my life I never expected to have,” Fenris finally whispered, his thumb stroking across Ander’s lips.  “You and the girls are everything I wanted but never knew I was missing.”

Raising one hand to cup Fenris’s cheek Anders voice was thick with emotion when he whispered, “Love you, Fenris.”

“Foolish mage,” Fenris chuffed, bending to place a soft kiss to Anders lips.  “I love you too.”


End file.
